The powers that be
by RomanceGuru
Summary: CH. 16, Revelations. River Tam, Marcus Hamilton crossover fic. Hate consumes her. Truth and revelation prevail.
1. Chapter 1

She was nothing. A broken piece of experimental waste. Marcus could see that the first time he looked into her wild eyes.

The pale girl reminded him of a frightened, feral animal. He wondered if something so damaged could be tamed.

It seemed such a waste of resources, too. He couldn't perceive one ounce of value in possessing such a creature. Still, the partners were adamant that she be removed from the Academy. Shame they were going to piss off their highest paying clients.

As he pulled the lethargic girl along firmly by the arm, past the broken bodies littering the corridor, she snapped out of her daze and looked at him anxiously. "Simon? You're not Simon."

"The name is Mr. Hamilton, but you can call me Marcus." He offered, glancing into her wobbly eyes a moment before foraging ahead. Picking up his pace, he continued to speak to her. "I apologize that there wasn't time for proper introductions. Too many heads to snap. You understand. Things of such always put a damper on formalities."

River was trembling violently and dragging her feet as she muttered. "Made up of a thousand souls. All bloodied. It's futile!" Where the large man gripped her flesh, it burned.

"Only a thousand? And they said you were a genius." Marcus made a tisk tisk noise and shook his head in disappointment.

He was slowly burning her skin. Soon, she'd be nothing but ash. "No! Cannot make me." River struggled more frantically against his grasp. "Will not fall into darkness!"

The girl was squirming something fierce, not that it slowed him any. It was just annoying. You'd think she'd be grateful to get away from her tormenters. "Beggars can't be choosers, little girl. It's one evil or another eventually. Now come along before the boogiemen return." Marcus advised calmly as they reached the elevator.

He felt something sharp pierce the skin of his forearm. She'd bit him. Interesting. Maybe they would get along after all. Marcus squeezed her arm hard, causing her to cry out. "Do that again, and I will be forced to knock you out. Can carry you just the same." He traced his finger over the small defect now on his sleeve. "Fine suits are hard to come by these days. Don't need crazy little teeth marks ruining the few I have left."

"Greed is a failing." River spat, looking at him with disgust. She knew his pleasant appearance to be a farce. Scales and charcoal resided underneath. "You are just a loud echo." She accused, trying to ignore the searing pain in her arm. This wasn't supposed to happen. Simon should have come, taken her to a place of Serenity.

Marcus laughed deep while he punched in the code to override the elevator systems. "Pity then you can't block out the voices. And greed is only a weakness of character to mortals. The rules don't apply when you breathe eternally." He finished haughtily, and pulled her into the elevator, taking them down to the first floor.

River just looked at him, mystified. "You can hear them?"

Marcus readjusted his grip on her arm. "I know all about you and your…issues, also, your strengths, for lack of a better word. Mortals are inferior to us. But, I suppose you must have some purpose."

The girl fell silent and stopped struggling by the time they exited the elevator and walked right out the front door. Not, of course, before he had to take out 15 or so more impediments and their silly weapons. Honestly, the things were useless. The future just wasn't what he expected, at all.

Waiting for them outside the facility was a small company craft, all fired up and ready to go. The night was warm and it felt nice to get out of that cold, sterile place.

The wild thing resisted entry at first, but she was fatigued, and he was able to nudge her into compliance on his second attempt. Marcus sat next to her and strapped them both in. "See, things are much easier for you when you cooperate." Feeling the shuttle lift, he sat back and tried to get comfortable.

River scowled, crossing her bare arms over her frail body. "That's what they say. Blue death and lies."

Marcus cocked an eyebrow at her. "You know, you have a very morbid appeal. Think you'll fit splendidly at Wolfram and Hart."

"Won't. Belong nowhere. Nonexistent." River disputed.

Marcus sighed. "They did say you were a depressive. Among other things."

River glared at him. "All things die. Your end will come."

"Homicidal being another." He added in an amused tone.

Marcus noticed the girl's lips were a nice shade of purple and her teeth were chattering. The thin blue frock she was wearing offered little coverage. "You're cold. Here." Taking off his Jacket, he wrapped it around the girl.

River looked up at him, and he found her dark eyes imposing, bottomless, strangely beautiful in a way he had never seen before. It had been millenniums, if ever. Odd. Too bad the rest of her wasn't much to look at.

"Malevolence and etiquette. You're a contradiction." She noted. She had stopped shaking, warmed by the body heat retained in the lining of Marcus's coat.

He smiled courteously. "Not exactly, River. You see, decorum is what separates the common level demons from the rest of us. It's a sad world when you can't ask a man nicely to beg for his life."

River turned away, disinterested, and stared out the small widow into the vastness of the atmosphere. "Your jacket smells like man stink."

"I can take it back." Marcus offered.

"No!" River exclaimed and clung tighter to the gray fabric.

"Well, stop complaining, then. It will make the journey much more enjoyable." Marcus reproached.

"Wasn't complaining. Observing." River corrected. "You're pungent. An alpha male."

Marcus smirked. "That's a nice way of putting it. Don't worry; I'm sure being cooped up in that lab has dampened your senses some. You'll adjust."

It was quiet for a long while after that, for which Marcus was grateful. The girl could be a bit of a pest. He hoped the journey to Londinium wouldn't be too much longer. Perhaps he should have teleported them.

Her small, mousy voice jolted him out of his much revered solitude. "Approximately 12 hrs and 27 minutes."

Marcus peeked an eye open. "Are you reading my thoughts?" He knew her to be intuitive. Schizophrenic was also a possibility. Clairvoyant was something else entirely.

She just looked at him in a creepy manner. He found it highly amusing that he could be disturbed by the human girl at all. Those eyes. Something just wasn't right about her, in an every dimension sort of way.

"Out of order." River agreed. "Took apart the pieces to see how I work. Added components. Don't work this way." River confessed solemnly. The girl looked miserable, and if he had a heart, or a soul for that matter, he might have felt bad for her.

"So you are a reader then." Marcus said thoughtfully. _Those_ are most definitely a commodity, on this plane of existence and others. Huh. The partners hadn't filled him in on that major detail. The girl was looking more the valued asset.

River yawned and curled her legs to her chest, pulling Marcus's jacket up around her neck. She closed her eyes and leaned her head against his shoulder. "You were correct. Becoming immune to the stench."

Marcus tensed up, uncomfortable with the girl's sudden transition in behavior. Since when was he so unimposing to her that he could be deemed as a pillow? Nudging her harshly off his arm, he quickly put her in place. "Please don't mistake my rescuing you as heroism. I understand you're a little whacked in the head, so I'll be kind and forewarn you, I'm not to be trusted."

River was unfazed and yawned again, her eyelids feeling like thousand pound shutters. "Caretaker." She murmured, before snuggling back against the solidness of Marcus's arm and quickly faded from the realm of the conscious.

The girl's listening skills were unquestionably something to be desired. He could just toss her off of him and onto the floor, he thought. Train the dog to obey. It was then he felt her little arm tighten around his, holding on for dear life.

Um. It seemed she was absorbing his thoughts even in her sleep. Well, if she weren't already screwed up, peering into the likes of his mind 24 hours a day would most certainly send the little thing over the edge. Guess he could be nice, for now.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Rating: R for violence.

Fandom: Firefly/Angel  
Characters/pairing: Marcus, River. Marcus/River eventually?

Warning: Possibly very dark and disturbing.

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Marcus couldn't recall when it was he'd drifted into slumber, but the next thing he knew, everything was still and the shuttle doors were being throw open. The sunlight that streamed in irritated him instantaneously. He'd always found the daytime to be disgustingly cheerful and obtrusive.

A familiar voice was shouting at him from behind the blinding light. "Bloody hell, Marcus! For goodness sakes, stop cuddling with the chosen one and act like the ancient evil you are."

Quickly, he glanced down to find that indeed, fit snugly under his arm rested the Tam girl. Well, stranger things had happened. Marcus removed his arm and made a mental note to later figure out how he ended up in such an uncharacteristic position. Firstly, there were more pressing matters to be had, like ridding himself of her entirely.

Marcus raised a large, meticulously groomed hand to shield the sun. "Culverton. So glad you could meet us. I assume you're here to collect the girl?" Immediately, he began to unfasten them both, already fantasizing about the long, hot bath he'd take while sipping a nice vintage, a Pinot noir perhaps. Just because he wasn't of the human worlds, didn't mean he couldn't luxuriate in what they had to offer him.

While he was busy, Culverton stepped away and spoke in hushed tones with someone just outside. Most likely it was his buxom little PA, indubitably not hired for her secretarial skills.

Marcus propped the girl back up as she began to slump over. She felt fragile in his care; one slight misstep and he could break her. The prospect excited him tremendously.

Using one hand to hold her steady, he proceeded to pat her cheek with the other, hard enough to warrant a distant groan. "Rise and shine, River. The entirely evil and calculating supernatural beings are here to take you." River lolled her head to the side, her eyes fluttering, struggling against some distant nightmare only to awake to the next.

Culverton leaned back into the small cabin. "Crikey, what did you do to her Marcus? The lady is comatose."

"The girl was handled with care, no injuries to speak of." Marcus looked down to the massive purplish-blue bruise spanning her left upper arm. "Well, as much as could be helped." He looked over at his useless assistant expectantly. "Are you going to take her or not? I have business to attend to."

His assistant laughed jovially. "That's funny. Really, Marcus. I think you were gravely misinformed. The partners have asked that you keep the girl in your charge. Her presence on Londinium is precarious. You know _they _will be after her. Wolfram and Hart feel you are most suited to protect her. They also specified that you are to make her feel at home."

Marcus couldn't believe his ears. "Since when have you been chummy enough to speak with the partners through conduit?"

"Since they appointed me to temporarily take over your office." Culverton replied matter-of-factly.

Marcus clenched his jaw at the news. He had gone from head of evil inc. on one of the central planets to babysitter of the cracked in a matter of moments. That was a large blow to swallow, even for a decorous fellow such as himself.

Sucking it up, he pursed his lips together. "Very well, Culverton. If the Partners deem you capable enough, then so be it. You know as well as I the alternative to messing up. I trust you'll keep things in order." Lifting the girl into his arms, Marcus exited the shuttle.

His assistant looked down at the girl, her face cradled by the peace of slumber. So unsuspecting, poor little thing. "She's a real beauty." He observed, admiring the way her dark hair framed her young porcelain skin and how her lips rose to a gentle pout.

Marcus looked incredulously at the half-demon and then down at the girl in his arms and considered her. Her defects were many, being human the most dominant. He supposed if he were to hold her to those low standards, she wasn't that completely unpleasant to look at. "The mortal is not unusual enough to entice me. The whole virginal innocence thing is becoming quite the bore." Marcus responded dryly.

Culverton shrugged his shoulders. "Suit yourself. But from what I understand, she's far from the typical being."

"Hardly." Marcus snorted and moved past, hoping that he wouldn't be burdened by the thing for too much longer.

"Cheerio, Marcus." Culverton called after him. "Wish you the utmost luck! Oh, and I should stress that no harm should befall the girl. By your hand included. They will summon you for her one year from the day."

Marcus spun back around. "Pardon me? You are most certainly joking."

"Afraid not, my friend." Culverton's self-satisfied smile proved that he was deeply enjoying this.

The urge to put his hand through some poor soul strongly gripped Marcus. Breathing deep, he turned away from Culverton before he ripped the smug expression from his face. Quite literally.

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After laying the slumbering girl on his bed, Marcus stripped down and settled into that much-desired bath, hoping to momentarily forget his reassignment. Hmmm, that's better, he thought as the hot water surrounded him. He preferred the temperature near boiling.

Just as he was getting comfortable, a shriek emanated from the next room. Marcus rolled his eyes. And so it begins.

Standing, the steam rose from his body as it clashed with the cool air. Grabbing a towel, he wrapped it around his extremities before heading into his bedroom.

He found the girl in the corner, trembling. Her arms were shielding her face from some invisible aggressor. Kneeling before her, he could smell her fear; pungent, thick and delightful. Too bad it wasn't for him.

Peeking her face from beneath her hands, she perceived him with a look of confusion.

Marcus smiled as humanly as he could manage. "Ah, you're finally awake. Dream long?"

Slowly pushing herself up against the wall, she looked around, disoriented, and muttered, "It's not relevant."

He stood upright with her. "Do you remember who I am?"

River looked at him as if he was an idiot. "Marcus." She then paused, as if recalling something. "Creature of darkness."

So, she did remember who and what he was. Good. No false pretences to disprove.

River scanned the room. It was white, stark and unfeeling. Her mind was numb. "This isn't home."

"No, I'm afraid not." Marcus feigned a sympathetic tone. "However, I've always found _home_ such an ambiguous term. It is where you make it, you know."

Ignoring him, River began to panic. The order of things was incorrect. "Simon? Where's Simon?"

Marcus sighed. "You really must get past him. He missed the boat, so to speak. Probably wallowing in his failure of you. Very dedicated man. Too bad love and devotion pale against forces more formidable.

River moved past him, searching for an exit, a way out, while muttering frantically. "No…no… no. Will not be set free and re-caged!"

Marcus calmly followed her out of the bedroom and down the stars to the lower level of his penthouse, and watched with amusement as she tried all the doors and then the widows. Indeed, she was like a caged bird, flapping recklessly. So hopeful, yet her efforts are equally futile.

Then, to his surprise, a kitchen window was wedged loose and pushed open.

River scampered up to the ledge and looked down at the tiny street below. Her hair twirled around her as the wind gusted and she could feel the slight warmth of the sun on her face.

Everything was backwards, jumbled, life and death transposed. Nothing mattered anymore. Quickly deciding between hell and damnation, she jumped.

For a single moment, she felt free, liberated from years of anguish, and then something caught her arm and she crashed hard against the window ledge. Pain engulfed her body as she was pulled back inside and thrust up against the wall.

Marcus pinned his large frame against her tiny one, using his body as leverage and grabbed her chin hard, forcing her to look at him. "I'd appreciated if you didn't do that again," he warned. "I want you to promise me you won't."

She was forced to look into the flat blue of his eyes, with death intermingled in the pigment. There was something so utterly terrifying and calculating behind them, that it haunted her bones. His naked skin felt like ice pressed up against her, and she shivered as it reminded her of the sterile metal, pushing and prodding invasively.

"Come now, promise like a good little girl and I'll release you." He chided.

As he looked deep into her eyes, he thought he detected a trace of apprehension. The discovery pleased him. It was abnormal the way she acted, so impervious to his eminence.

River kicked, pummeled, and struggled against him, craving to feel again her moment of fleeting deliverance. Nothing mattered if she couldn't be with Simon, if he was suffering because of her.

Marcus had to admire the spirit in the girl as she writhed against him. A little psychotic firecracker she was. Eventually she gave up. They always did. "Done?"

River narrowed her eyes. He wished to control her like the others. Will her into submission. No, she would not let him. She would fight with the broken pieces, with whatever was left. Closing her eyes, she did just as they taught her and when she found it, snapped them back open. "They would dispose of you. You are disposable."

Marcus smirked. "Highly unlikely. I'm a valued commodity. Have been for centuries. The partners appreciate loyalty."

"Not as mighty as you think." She corrected.

Marcus was growing impatient. "You understand very little."

River looked at him unwaveringly. "Created for objective in the grand scheme. Your purpose is subsidiary. Ephemeral. Loyalty is not binding in a world where there is no obligation to its children. You _are _their spawn."

Marcus felt the anger build, his normal composure disrupted by…just whom did she think she was? Her logic confused him, made him wonder beyond his realm of conception. No. She was wrong. Just an insignificant piece of human trash and it was time to take out the garbage. Raising his fist back, he could imagine her face shattering even before he struck. The image should have thrilled him.

The wall crunched loudly right beside her, bits of plaster freckling her dark hair as she flinched. Turning, she saw Marcus's arm buried deep within the wall. Her eyes went wide with realization. Turning back to him, she whispered perceptively. "You can't hurt me."

Marcus leaned in closer, his mint breath ghosting her lips, the tone of his voice menacing. "Yes, well, I can mostly certainly make your stay here less than pleasant."

Released, she slid down the wall and crumpled to the ground like a rag-doll. Her whole body was weak, her world shaken more violently than ever before, and as she looked up into the face of pure evil, she believed that he would do just that.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

When River awoke the next morning, there were no men in white coats coming to collect her and strap her down. Nor was there a gentle hum of a ship encapsulating her in space. The place instead was of unconsecrated ground.

Snapping open her eyes, she sat up abruptly, gulping for air. Words and flashes filled her, sinking her to the bottom of a phantom abyss. Gradually, her breathing slowed and the blood drained back into her face. There was a memory, hers, but not, that remained after the tightness in her chest faded.

_Midbook Transport. Standard radio and accelerator core. Class code 03-K64--Firefly. _

Shaking away the bits of unfamiliar pieces, River shivered.

Looking around, she had to place herself just to be sure this was not all some cruel dream. Phantoms, ghosts and demons belonged in the unconscious. _They_ could have infected her with these lies. A white comforter engulfed her in the oversized bed where she lay. The large space offered sparse furnishings and it was devoid of color.

An eerie silence filled the air as she pushed the blankets away, her body aching heavily with the simple effort. On her way off the bed, she knocked a slip of paper to the ground. Bending from the waist, she curiously retrieved it, turning it pen-marked side up.

_River,_

_It occurred to me that perhaps we did not get off on the right foot. I took the liberty of supplying you with a few necessities. I hope all is to your liking. After you're washed, meet me downstairs for breakfast. _

_Sincerely, _

_Marcus._

River dropped the note, wandered over tothe closet and slid the door open. There, spanning the rack, were a multitude of dresses in varying colors and fabrics. She brushed her hand along the expansive selection, stopping occasionally to finger the soft silks. _Overindulgence. _Dropping her hand, she moved onto the bathroom and stood in front of the gigantic mirror.

The girl staring back at her was a ghostly stranger. Lifting her fingers to the glass, she traced her hollowed eyes, prominent cheekbones and down her pale neck, outlining the new curves of her foreign body.

The last time she saw herself she was a girl. They had altered her somehow. Gave her lips and eyes and shapes not her own. She forced herself to look away, down, anywhere but at _her_.

Running her fingers along the marble, she turned on the faucet and let it run a while, staring mindlessly at the stream and then shutting it off. Leaving the bedroom, she made her way down the stairs and into the kitchen as if in a trance.

When she entered, Marcus looked up from scrambling eggs, and smiled slightly. He wore gray slacks, a pale pink dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar and an apron tied neatly around his waist. He took in the girl's appearance, her dark hair matted and still wearing the blue frock he had rescued her in.

"You're not dressed." Marcus stated flatly. He should have known she wouldn't have followed his simple instructions. And he had worded them so nicely.

River just stared at him, her eyes void, and moved to sit on one of the benches in the breakfast nook.

"Did you miss the brush I left for you in the bathroom?" He prodded further as he transferred the eggs onto two plates.

River ignored him and turned to open the blinds, flooding the kitchen with golden light. Turning back around, she watched the annoyance flash across his face. She cocked her head as she spoke. "Who is more foolish, the child afraid of the dark or the man afraid of the light?"

Marcus sucked in his breath, determined not to let the girl get to him. He'd always prided himself on his composure, his ability to calmly and rationally deal with any situation. Although, generally, he didn't have his adversaries poking around in his head for ammunition.

He could play. After all, that was his specialty, making the good feel they had a fighting chance, luring them into a false sense of hope only to snatch the very meaning of the word away.

Setting a plate before the girl, he moved to the other side of the table, sitting in the direct sunlight with false ease. Picking up his utensils, he proceeded to eat his breakfast with decorum, and in between bites, watched the girl quietly stare at her food as if it were the enemy. "Aren't you going to eat? Can't just sit there withering away."

"It's poisoned." River acknowledged.

Marcus took a nice long drink from his glass of water and set it back down gently. "You know I can't hurt you. Said it yourself."

"Eat to live, live to eat. It's circular. There's no point." River chanted, her gaze torpid, fixed on space.

"Point is to exist." Marcus waved his fork in the air. "Now, personally, I don't see the use of _your_ particular existence. Call this blind faith." He set down his cutlery and wiped his mouth. "I do so hope that you're not a disappointment."

Marcus stood, grabbing his empty plate, and pushed River's closer towards her. "Now, eat up."

River lashed out and knocked the plate from the table, sending it crashing violently to the floor. "No!" She shrieked, clambering up on the bench as far away from the eggs as possible. "They will eat my brain. Change its chemistry!"

Marcus looked down at the pile of porcelain and eggs scattered across his floor and then back up at the wigged-out girl. The thing was _truly _out of her mind.

Shaking his head in disapproval, he grabbed her hand and yanked her down hard, her bare soles landing on the glass. River cried out in pain as the shards sliced her feet.

Marcus looked down at the bloody remnants and snorted before pulling her along with him back up the stairs, all the while reproaching her. "If you're not going to eat, the least you can do is make yourself decent. Honestly, aren't you the least bit embarrassed of yourself?"

River whimpered with each step, the carpet against her raw wounds causing a searing pain. When they reached the bathroom, Marcus turned on the shower and let the water run cold before throwing her in. She hit the tile wall cruelly and slumped to the ground, wrapping her arms around her knees. Hot tears contrasted with the ice water hitting her skin, the freezing cold awaking her to the truth of her reality.

Marcus left the bathroom and sat down on his unmade bed listening to her weep, the sound was more melodious than screams. He found agony to be much more rewarding than fear, one really has to work hard to achieve mental anguish.

Ten minutes passed, and while her crying faded to sobs, it did not cease. Marcus sighed and stood up, making his way into the bathroom to find River in the same position he'd left her. He just stood there staring at the puzzling mess before him. In all his centuries of existence he had never come up against one so stubborn. "What's the matter? Didn't have bathing 101 at that over priced academy of yours?"

River lifted her head and looked at Marcus with red swollen eyes. Something in them had changed. "Don't function right. I'm broken." She confessed.

There was no doubt she was telling the truth. "Yes, they really cracked you up good, didn't they? Humans are foolish in that way. Believing they can perfect their species. Throughout history destroying their own kind for the cause. There's a kind of poetry to that. Don't you think?" He mused.

River just stared at him impassively.

"Never mind that." Marcus gestured to her. "Do you need my assistance?"

River nodded her head submissively.

"Alright then, stand up." As River did as she was told, Marcus adjusted the temperature so that it was more pleasant. Next, he removed his dress shirt and slacks, leaving his undershirt and boxers on as not to drench his clothing. "Turn around." He instructed lightly and brushed her thick wet hair aside so he could unbutton the back of her frock.

Pulling the plastered material from her body, he noticed her skin began to pink under the warm water. When she was completely stripped, he wrung the water from the clothing and tossed them into the waste bin. Looking up at his own sundries, he remembered something. "Be right back."

When he returned, he set a basket of various sweet smelling shampoos and soaps next to the shower. Plucking one out, he eyed the label. "Is apple scented ok?"

River looked over her shoulder at him, but said nothing.

"I'll take that as a yes." Popping the cap, he squirted an ample amount in his hands and worked the stuff through her long tresses, following in suit with conditioner. As he rinsed her hair, he ran his fingers through the locks until they were completely untangled and then he stood back to admire his handy work. "There now, all done." Reaching down, he picked up a washcloth and supplied it with soap before dangling it in front of her. "I presume you can handle the rest?"

When she was yet again unresponsive, he grabbed her arm and pulled her backside towards him. Starting at her shoulders, he lathered in circles and worked his way down. Meticulously and dutifully he scrubbed, using extra care around the sensitive areas. As he worked, he thought only of the job at hand, only vaguely mindful that he was handling a vulnerable, exposed young girl.

Giving her body a final rinse, he shut off the water and wrapped her in a large towel, guiding her out of the shower. "Now that's much better, isn't it? Clean is orderly. More efficientI always say." With every step, River winced, leaving diluted bloody footprints along the way. Marcus looked down and noticed the mess she was making. Lifting her with ease, he carried her to the bed and sat her on its end.

It took him awhile to find the first aid kit. It was still packaged-wrapped and covered in dust. Fishing around in it, he grabbed a roll of gauze, wrap and some antibiotics.

River looked down at Marcus as he knelt at her feet and proceeded to bandage them. Up until now, she had been introverted, a defense mechanism for impossible situations. She could feel the nothing pour from him. There was not a spark of anger, hate, pity, joy, or love. He was a blank canvas. It perplexed her how he cared for her now, so seemly attentive, as if it all were real.

River pulled her foot back defensively and whimpered as the disinfectant bubbled in her wounds.

"Sorry." Marcus apologized, looking up from her foot.

She met his gaze boldly. "Just a word. Has no meaning."

Marcus had to chuckle at that. "Can't pull the wool over your eyes, now can I?"

River felt an intense pity as she looked down on her wicked caretaker. With genuine compassion lacing her features, she responded. "Must be sad. Having to live an eternity of emptiness."

Marcus said nothing, and continued to wrap the gauze dutifully, the self-amused smile draining from his face.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Notes: 2 weeks have passed in the 'verse since chapter 3. Thanks for the comments and input, they've really helped keep this story afloat.

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River could hear his footsteps reverberate as she pressed her ear to the cool marble of the staircase. "Four, three, two, one." She quietly whispered as Marcus naturally took two stairs at a time and reached were she lay near the top. He looked down at the dainty thing blanketing his step. She always seemed to be sprawled out in the most uncommon of places. "You have an odd sense of decorum, little girl. There something wrong with my furnishings? Um?"

River curled her fingers near her lips, staring vacantly ahead as she answered. "Stops the spinning. It's deafening, the silence." She then titled her head to look up at the giant and confessed, "I threw up on your bed."

Marcus shook his head, displeased. He was most certainly going to have to give his maid a pay raise. The thing was a walking disaster.

His eyes swept over the girl, her long legs sprouting from a delicate lavender dress and her dark hair tangled in neat curls down her back. He had found that her looks had much improved given the right attire and the miracle that is the brush.

Marcus cleared his throat. "Well, next time, do try and make the toilet. It's really not that difficult."

Stepping over her, he continued to his room to shower and dress, forgoing his favored suits for dark gray slacks and fitted black dress shirt. Stopping by the bed on his way back out, he scrunched up his face and considered just ordering a new one altogether.

When he returned to the stairs, he found that she was gone, mostly likely wandering aimlessly about or hiding in a cupboard somewhere. No matter, he had a day's worth of work to get to. Resuming employment from home gave him a continued sense of fulfillment. After all, an evil being couldn't survive through the day without causing at least one soul to turn.

Making his way down the stairs, he turned right down a narrow hall and unlocked his office door. Sitting at his desk, he cracked his knuckles before logging on to the cortex. It was his job to ensure that several substantial medical shipments were diverted from the rim planets. That always caused a nice uproar, hundreds perishing due to a glitch in the system. A satisfied smile donned his face as he worked. Helping to further wedge between the Alliance and independents was all a part of the grand scheme of things.

It was late when he finally exited his office and locked it behind him. Heading down the hall, he remembered that he'd forgotten to feed the girl. Not that she ate much anyways.

Humming to himself, he headed to the kitchen and put together a couple sandwiches. Taking a seat, he folded his hands and patiently waited for her to appear.

Marcus could sense her in the shadows, smell her light, feminine scent. She was being difficult again. Not that he could really blame her. "Come out now, River."

River peeked her head of dark hair around the doorway and looked at Marcus cagily.

"It's not poisoned." He reassured, pointing to her plate.

River hesitated. "The bits will come up. You'll be mad."

"Wasn't upset this morning." He pointed out.

River's eyes were unblinking as she pressed her face against the doorframe. "Anger's unpredictable."

"Afraid?" He inquired proudly.

"No." Was her flat reply.

Marcus tried not to look disappointed. "Interesting," he supposed aloud and gestured for her to take a seat. "Please, elaborate."

"The door opens in your fury." She said softly, stepping into the kitchen but still keeping her distance and leaned back against the wall, closing her eyes. "I try not too. But I see them. The ones you've taken."

"Impressive, isn't it?" Marcus remarked, reflecting on the vast numbers. Picking up his sandwich, he proceeded to dine with causal ease.

River snapped open her eyes, looking right through him. "It's easy to take." Her expression then shifted as her face lit up. Smiling brightly, she boasted, "My brother's a doctor. Saves lives."

Marcus felt the anger stir within. The girl was absolutely infuriating, implying that her brother's magnitude was above his own. Had he helped bring down an entire world?

Marcus scoffed. "It's a waste, what he does. Nothing about your kind is worth saving."

River looked around, thinking for a moment. "Emulate our every likeness. You lie." she challenged. "Emptiness and lies."

Marcus's lip twitched as he glared at her. The girl hadn't given up the struggle to place herself above him, spouting her erroneous observations and looking down at him with condescension.

She may have been considered a genius of her species at one time. They had selected her for that very reason. However, now, she was merely a damaged vessel, only a fragment of her previous worth. The thing seemed to weave in and out of remembering that. Well, he'd remind her.

Taking on an expression of impassivity, he stood and lectured her evenly. "If that's how you choose to behave, you can just wither away for all I care." Taking her plate, he dumped her dinner in the garbage and tossed the empty dish into the sink, causing it to clamor loudly. River jumped at the sound and covered her ears, whimpering.

On his way out, Marcus stopped next to her and watched with amusement as she seemed to regress within herself, muttering nonsense. He spoke hundreds of dialects, but 'crazy' was something he'd yet to master. He was already starting to feel better, just watching her fail at life.

In a mocking manner, he offered a bit of his own insight. "It must be sad, knowing you're stuck here with me, to realize, no one's coming to save you."

Resting his forearm on the doorway, he leaned over her, adorning a self-assured grin. "Admit it, River. You need me."

Her mumbling ceased as looked up at him, her eyes still half lost. "Rather fade away."

Marcus's smirk was swallowed by a scowl. Pushing himself upright, he straightened his posture and shot the girl a look that could freeze. "Suit yourself."

River followed him with her eyes as he brushed past, disappearing through the dining room. She could feel the spite roll off of him, clouding her mind with darkness, blocking out the little light left.

---

For the first time since her imprisonment, Marcus left. The door slammed forcefully, leaving behind only a trail of red and silence.

River felt empty, but clear, and soon grew aware of the pains in her stomach, her body screaming for nourishment. She made her way to the icebox and opened it, searching for something familiar. Grabbing the carton of eggs, she plucked out one and examined it carefully.

There were steps, a logical process for everything. Yet, she couldn't locate the tools to turn the cold, hard thing into food. Her eyes moved from the egg to a red apple resting on the top self. Smiling, she dropped the eggs mindlessly and reached for it, eagerly sinking her teeth into its sweet, crunchy flesh.

---

Marcus wandered the streets of Londinium, vigilant for any sign of life. Most of his killings were preplanned and composed of purpose. After all, he wasn't a complete savage like the werewolves and vampires. But tonight, he had the strong desire to make a mess of somebody. He wanted to watch as their eyes pleaded helplessly, feed off of their pain as it engulfed their noiseless screams.

Silently, he cursed the curfew set in place on the planet, neat and tidy laws to keep its abiding citizens in order.

The more he thought about the reason for his anger, the more incensed he grew. He was losing control, playing into emotions that rarely surfaced. She was distracting him, causing him to lose sight of the objective; keep the girl preserved and in working order so she could help fulfill the prophecy. God, it was Angel all over again.

---

River should have been glad Marcus was away, recognized the little freedom granted to her. Except every hour that he was gone, she grew more apprehensive. She tried to pass the time by cleaning up the mess she'd made, but only managed to swirl the yolk and broken shells further across the kitchen floor. Giving up, she made her way to the entry hall and curled next to the front door, like she did when he was at work in his office.

There was a black hole of loneliness consuming her. How she longed for a kind word, a soothing hug or a chaste kiss. Warmth and sincerity of any kind were but a faded memory and she craved to experience them once again.

Watching for his shadow under the doorstep, she knew that he could never give her those things, the things she really needed. Love was the only thing that could rope her in from the dark and make her real again.

However, as she lay on the cold, rigid floor, the weight of sleep taking over, she continued to wait for the possibility of something. Anything.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Notes: 2 more months have elapsed since chapter 4 in the 'verse.

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The moonlight streamed in through the large windows at the top of the staircase as River lightly descended, her soft breath fogging before her. Everything was still at the late hour, dead and empty as the black.

However, life had deserted this place long before nightfall.

The empty shell River moved in carried her to the kitchen, a darkness beckoning to her, waiting to be possessed. The metal scraped against the block as she set it free and held it behind her back.

With abnormal stealth, she passed soundlessly through the dining hall, the foyer and down the several steps into the living space where _he_ slept. Standing over him, she looked down upon his bare chest and exposed jugular. Taking the blade from behind her back, she pressed its tip against his throat and swiped it across in one swift motion.

Marcus's eyes snapped open as thick, red blood squirted from his throat, spraying River with a fine sheen. With inhuman speed he was upon her and she was thrown back against the opposite end of the couch, the blade she had attacked him with pressed steadily against her own delicate throat.

River looked at Marcus challengingly, tilting her pale neck back, ready and willing for his vengeance. He stared into the defiance of her eyes, ever so tempted. It was like dangling a bleeding man in front of an emaciated vampire.

He could feel the heat of her body beneath his, her little heart pounding with expendable life. The desire to end it was carnal, but something about her compliance puzzled him, causing him to hesitate.

River reached past the knife and ran her finger over the fatal wound she had inflicted, finding that it had healed. His skin was seamless, slippery and coated in fresh blood. Rubbing the substance between her fingers, she examined it curiously, and whispered as if only to herself. "You bleed." She then looked up from her fingers and into his blues with question. "Did it hurt?"

Marcus couldn't figure out if the girl had a death wish or if she was performing her own little scientific experiment. Perhaps it was both. "I feel very little." he responded dryly.

"But you do feel. And bleed." River looked into his eyes, her lips curling slightly. "Working parts."

Marcus looked down at her, slightly mystified by her agenda. He didn't like being analyzed. He was what he was. There was no reason to dig further. "What is it that you want?" He moved his eyes from her to the blade, its shine piercing the dim space. "There are more civil ways to initiate conversation than slashing at one's throat, you know."

River grinned cheekily. "Got your attention."

Marcus couldn't help but smile. It was possible he was rubbing off on her yet. Pulling the knife from her throat, he sat up and surveyed the bloody mess drenching the girl and his furniture. His smile grew as he admired the horrific sight. "You almost look pretty covered in my blood."

River's face dropped in confusion at his words, fading back into herself. She looked down alarmingly at the bright red spatter. Bringing her spotted hands in front of her face, she went into full-fledged panic mode. "Get it off!" she shrieked and began to pull and tear at her clothing to free herself of the dreadful crimson."

_Or maybe not. _Marcus sighed. He was too exhausted to deal with another one of her fits. Standing, he threw the girl over his shoulder and headed upstairs to the bath. Along the way, she kicked and flailed about, going on about eyes and fingers that bleed.

Setting her down next to the tub, he filled it while she continued to mutter.

Tugging at her clothing, he tried to remove it as she squirmed about, frantically trying to convince him that _they_ were coming. Ignoring her rants, he scooped her up and tossed her in, the water nearly spilling over the sides of the deep basin as she hit.

River went under and then reemerged, gasping for air while the water around her turned pink. Marcus looked down at her shocked expression and inquired after her mental state. "Back from the moon?" River wiped the water from her eyes and just blinked at him.

Snickering, he moved to the shower, shedding his boxers, and stepped in to wash away the mess she made. As he let the hot blast pound against his skin, he pondered the girl's recent violent progression. He had read her files, knew what she was, what they had made her. The question was, did she? Marcus smiled as he considered triggering her. The curiosity to experience her full potential was like a wet dream. They could play on a more equal field. If he went easy, of course.

Marcus looked over at River, who was trying to figure out how to get the cap off the shampoo bottle. Turning it upside down, she shook it vigorously, a look of adorable confusion donned on her face.

Ah, she was so deliciously innocent and unaware of her murderous actions just minutes before. Watching her have to realize fully that she was a killer, a paradox, just might be the most enjoyable experience for him yet.

No. She wasn't ready. As much as he longed to break her, it would defeat the purpose.

River gave up on the shampoo and turned in the bath, peeking her eyes over the rim of the tub, curiously dissecting the picture before her. Clearly defined through the glass door, there was a man, but not, all muscles and sinew covered in millions of drops of liquid matter.

A blush spread over her submerged skin as her eyes traveled south, growing even wider upon each new discovery.

Logically her brain saw pieces and parts, but corporally, her body reacted to the way his large hands moved as he lathered his skin, hard curves and soft, awaking the primal part of her.

She had felt this way before, traces in dreams, but only faintly. It was a warm, nervous aching, amplified by the visual, and she didn't know how to ease the phenomenon, make it stop.

Turning back around quickly, she laid her head back against the tub and caught her breath as her hands slid instinctively between her legs to where the ache was.

It was dark and churning in her mind as she moved her small hands, giving in to wicked thoughts the monster made her have. The sensation of warm water and friction amplified the sensation, growing, growing until everything was white. River bit her lip to hold back the voice that wanted to scream as her whole body went weak.

Opening her eyes slowly, languorously, she found that Marcus was standing over her smirking. "What are you doing?"

River sat up quickly, crossing her arms to cover her breasts, her face still flushed, and refused to look at him. "Eyes are invasive. Please avert."

Marcus chuckled as he turned around, searching for a towel to hand her. "Since when did you become bashful?"

River stuck out her chin as she lectured him. "I would like to bath myself from now on." Snapping the towel from him as he offered it, she grew more flustered at his look of amusement. "You shouldn't see me."

Marcus bowed, ogling any exposed flesh with a wicked smile, blatantly invading her sense of newfound privacy as he spoke. "As you wish."

River shivered as he left the bathroom. She felt a change coming over her like a growing storm.

---

When she entered the bedroom attired in a soft, sea-green robe, she found that Marcus was already in the bed, on the side where she normally slept. River tried to swallow the lump growing in her throat as she tried to rationalize the large, blanketed lump.

Marcus turned and looked over his shoulder at her. "I hope you don't mind. Can't very well sleep where I was, can I?" Marcus patted the spot next to him. "Come, the bed's nice and warm." Then off her look of dread he added, "Not to worry, princess. I don't bite, much." Rolling back on his side, he instructed further, "Oh, and please turn off the light."

After River did just that, she walked cautiously to the opposite side of the bed, half expecting Marcus to spring up and attack. Pulling back the comforter, she quickly jumped in with her back to him and pulled the blanket up over her head.

Marcus laughed. Ah, this was too much fun. "What? You're not even going to say good night?" His smile deepened in the dark and he wondered if he'd ever been this easily amused before.

River pulled the blanket from over her head and glared at him, he was taunting her. Embarrassment gripped her body and she wondered if he knew she'd had thoughts about him. Sticking her nose up in the air, she replied superciliously. "Goodnight, fiend."

Marcus shook his head in disapproval. "That's not what I meant." The look he gave her chilled her to the bone. "Want you to kiss me goodnight."

River's eyes widened as she sat up abruptly and looked at him, horror-stricken. Gratification in tormenting her was at the forefront of his mind and she could read nothing beyond that in his intentions.

Determined not to be intimidated, River relaxed her shoulders, placing her hands on the bed, and leaned towards him.

Marcus watched her with a satisfied look in his eyes. She was becoming such an obedient little thing.

Dipping her head down, River hesitated, picking up his familiar scent; raw, potent, visceral sex, and suppressed a shudder. Touching her lips to his cool skin, she gave his cheek a quick peck and pulled away, scampering back to her side of the bed.

"Am I really that vile?" Marcus queried, still amused. He had finally found a button that worked. "You didn't even give me a chance to return the gesture."

River held her breath, wary of the direction this was headed. She had to do something to head him off or he'd spend the rest of the night relishing in his games. His kind had no boundaries.

Propping herself up on her elbow, she looked at him unwaveringly. "Ok. But you have to mean it."

Marcus almost laughed when he saw that she was serious. "You don't get to make up the rules, little girl."

"Thought you'd appreciate the challenge." River cocked her head, her long, damp hair splaying across the white bed sheets. "An unfeigned kiss."

Marcus scowled. He could make a nun quiver in her garb but the girl would know if he was faking it. Messing with a reader was proving to be increasingly difficult. Every time he had her where he wanted her, she came back twofold. It was really becoming quite aggravating. _He_ had always been the master of power play. "How about I turn down your little challenge, and ruin your perfectly childish fantasies anyway?"

River smiled as if she knew something he didn't. "What's the point if you cant feel its power?" Lying back down, she tucked her hands underneath her face, like she'd already won. "You are all strength and no truth, Marcus Hamilton."

He didn't know whether to hit her or prove her wrong.

The fact that she was using his full name with the same arrogance he often exuded did not escape his notice either. The girl wasn't as weak as he had initially presumed. Somehow through his irritation a spark of respect flickered, but he kept it at an ember. There were very few in any dimension that could obtain it, if any.

Marcus pushed himself up and bent down towards the girl, planting a chaste kiss on her check, and then moved next to whisper throatily in her ear. "Goodnight, River Tam."

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Notes: 2 Weeks have past since chapter 5, 3 Months total since Marcus "rescued " River from the academy.

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Marcus listened at his door a moment before raising his hand and knocking brashly, the solid oak trembling under the sheer force. When continued silence was his only reply, he went ahead and entered the room to find the girl still fast asleep. She was curled up in a little ball, barely discernable under a sea of linen.

Walking over to window situated above the bed, he raised the blinds, allowing the sun to stream in harshly. White-hot rays pierced the cool, dim space illuminating the room. "Rise and shine, Sleeping beauty. It's nearly noon." He announced brightly.

River stirred and scrunched up her face, groaning as she peeked one eye open at the chipper demon. He was dressed in neatly pressed black Armani, the sunshine causing him to glow like some sort of dark angel. "Thought you were opposed to light." She grumbled.

Marcus smiled as he noticed the dark circles under the girl's eyes and clasped his hands together. "If it makes you miserable, that's a sacrifice I'm willing to make." He knew the nightmares were keeping her awake again, sleep finding her around dawn if she were lucky. The poor thing was suffering, and he was enjoying every minute of it.

River pulled the blanket over her head, the thick comforter muffling her small voice as she spoke. "Wake me when the circus comes."

"Funny you should mention it." Marcus responded as he walked over to her closet and opened it, scanning the selection. Deciding on a long, red taffeta ball gown, he pulled it out and hung it on the door. "We're having a dinner party tonight. There are some colleagues of mine that are just dying to meet you."

River peeked her head out curiously, a nervous whirl filling her stomach. "Ones like you."

Marcus noted the beginnings of apprehension and moved to sit next to River on the bed, placing his hand on what felt like a hip. "Don't worry, I've asked them to play nice." Rubbing his hand in a soothing manner up her side, he added an addendum to his reassurance. "Although, our _nice_ would substitute as a decent nightmare for you."

River sat up and backed away from his artificial stroke, pressing herself against the headboard. "No. Not ready for socialization. Fraternization. They are the enemy."

Marcus cracked an all-knowing smile. "They're really not the ones you should be worrying about."

"Not mine. _Yours_." River whispered, her eyes darting again as things she couldn't possibly understand tumbled from her lips.

"What was that?" Marcus queried distractedly, brushing the lint from his coat sleeve. "You know it's not polite to mumble."

River's eyes refocused as she watched Marcus groom himself. "Nothing."

Picking the last dot of white from his sleeve, he let it drift to the floor before looking at River sternly. "In any case, you can dress in what I picked out for you. The alternative…" Marcus paused for effect. "Is dining in the nude. There's at least one I know that will appreciate that greatly."

River paused, contemplating his ultimatum. She knew that he would easily suffer her that humiliation if she refused to comply. Pushing back the blankets, she stood on the bed and held out her arms.

Marcus cocked his eyebrow as he looked up at the girl. "Thought you were resuming self care? I'm not supposed to _see _you, remember?"

"Can't walk before you crawl." River amended. "Close your eyes."

Marcus stood and went to retrieve the dress, silently wondering when the girl's self sufficiency skills were going to kick in, but mostly surprised that he really wasn't bothered at having to care for her anymore. Resigned it to the fact that he simply liked the busy work, he put it out of his head.

Removing the dress from the hanger, he laid it across the bed before turning his attention to her. As he started to lift her nightgown up, River placed her hands on his, scolding him like a misbehaved child. "_Eyes_."

Observing her with professional criticism, Marcus's voice was stoic as he delivered his assessment. "Your modesty is unwarranted."

River kept her features devoid of emotion, hiding the sting of his words. She knew Marcus didn't see her as a woman, desirable or otherwise. She was just skin, bones and a beating heart to him. Her existence was as transparent as she felt, forever fading. Holding her chin straight, she continued to reproach him. "Then, no reason to look."

Marcus relented and closed his eyes as he dressed her, all the while getting the niggling feeling that the girl was slowly gaining the upper hand on him. Pulling the zipper up, he stepped back. "Permission to look, your highness?" He mocked and then opened them regardless.

The simple strapless top showed of her little shoulders, and the snug fit emphasized her tiny waist before puffing out, the length completely hiding her feet. Pale skin and dark eyes contrasted well with the maroon, the deep color of her lips unifying the ensemble.

River looked down at the dress, contemplatively fingering the rich fabric. It was shiny and smooth. Beautiful. Too pretty for her. She felt like an imposter. "Don't want to do this." She confessed as she looked back up into his eyes, pleading with any ounce of hidden compassion the creature might possess.

Marcus held out his hand and she reluctantly took it as he helped her from the bed, responding in a patronizing tone. "If only what you wanted mattered."

Guiding her into the bathroom, he stood behind her, looking at her through the reflection as he lifted her tangled tresses. "Let's see if something can't be done about this." Grabbing a brush from a drawer, he started on a section.

River observed him with resentment as he prepared her like a show dog. "I'll embarrass you in front of your friends." She promised stubbornly.

Marcus smiled as he calmly twisted his hand her hair, giving it three good wraps before yanking her head back firmly, exposing her long, slender neck. "You won't." He said self-confidently.

Placing his fingers at her collarbone, he brushed them up over the delicate skin of her neck, lingering on her pulse. As he savored its acceleration, he continued. "Want to know why?" When she didn't answer, he bent his head down and nuzzled her ear. "I have you on strings."

River tried to focus as a wave of heat washed over her, breath and feather light touch placating her fury and trepidation. Through the sensation she saw clarity, truth, but most importantly the irony of his statement.

---

River peered though the bars of the balcony down to the foyer below as the guests arrived. They walked in human vessels, but their energy was different, blacks and grays that cracked and popped. There was a man that spoke with a British accent accompanied by a blonde with ample curves and manner. The second group to arrive was a pair of dark-haired bloodsuckers and a man with amphibian skin and sharp little teeth.

Nausea flooded her. The room was spinning as a cold sweat pierced her skin. She had seen many bizarre things, horrid images in visions and in nightmares, but this was all too tangible. There was no where to run, no one to shake her awake and tell her that this was all some drug induced hallucination.

Marcus's voice snapped her from her daze as she bit back the bile fighting it's way up her throat. He was looking up at her impatiently from below. "River, you're being rude. Don't keep our guests waiting."

River gripped the bars until her knuckles turned white and shook her head vehemently.

Marcus turned to the couples and the demon. "My apologies. I'll just be a moment." Gesturing to the dining table, he instructed, "Why don't you have a seat, Greta will be happy to serve champagne, or blood, whichever you prefer."

Stalking up the stairs, Marcus reached River and stood above her, hovering like an impatient parent. "I thought we agreed you wouldn't make this harder on yourself than need be."

"There was no contract." River whispered, refusing to look up.

"The choice is yours. I can either drag you, or you can come willingly on my arm. Either way, I win."

River looked up at the condescension in his eyes. She was yet again pressured, trapped with a pinhole sized hope at escape. It was days like this, the ones when she couldn't think clear enough to outsmart him that she wanted to curl up into a little ball and disappear forever.

Hesitating a moment longer, she stood with grace and smoothed out her dress, taking Marcus's extended arm and completing the charade of free will. "That's more like it." He affirmed as they made their way down the stairs. "I'd hate to be forced to damage you in front of company. Such pleasures should only be indulged in our private time."

River ignored him, too preoccupied with the swelling of anxiety, panic threatening to swallow her whole as they neared the dinning hall. She stopped walking and started to drag her feet to slow the inevitable.

"Stop being so skittish." Marcus chided as he pulled her along. "Exposure to some polite society will do you good. It isn't normal the way you're always lurking about, watching the world pass you by. Your antisocial behavior must be curbed. There are many that expect nothing but the very best from you."

As she tried to twist loose and run back up the stairs, he grabbed her arm firmly and yanked her into the room, roughly sitting her at the end of the long table before making his way to the opposite end.

Situated to River's right was the blonde, and the Brit nearest to Marcus. On the opposite side were the vampires, the female farthest away, then the male and the scaly thing almost immediately next to her. They had ceased whatever they were doing to turn and look at her as if she were some sort of messiah.

"River, say hello to our guests, please." Marcus instructed as he shook the fold from his napkin and placed it across his lap.

River placed her hands next to her silverware and glared at him from across the long table, keeping her lips sealed.

Marcus smiled faintly, amused by the hatred burning in River's eyes. Gesturing to the slightly balding Man on his left, he continued with the formality of introductions. "This is Culverton, he's been temping for me since, well, you came along."

Culverton waved from across the table. "Cheerio, River. Never did get a chance to meet you proper. You were sleeping like a babe the day you arrived here."

River starred at the man impassively. He was outwardly kind, but there were shadows buried within, an greedy imposter lurking underneath plastic smiles.

Culverton cleared his throat uncomfortably under River's vacant stare. Marcus's lips curled up in satisfaction. He was almost proud of her.

Putting his arm around the woman next to him, Culverton continued on in a more subdued manner. "Well, anyways, this is Mae, she does our filing."

"Not to mention _you_." Marcus remarked snidely.

"Shut it, Marcus. You're just jealous I snagged one you couldn't."

There was a twinkle in Marcus's eye as he leaned back, sipping his wine with a smirk.

Culverton's face dropped as he turned to Mae for conformation. She just shrugged and turned her attention to River, appraising her up and down. "Well, ain't you a sweet looking thing? All tiny like a bug. Makes me just wanna squash ya and pop you in my mouth."

River scrunched up her face, her eyebrows lifting at the woman's ridiculous statement.

Marcus groaned and reminded himself to be more selective of his sexual partners in the future. Looking to the opposite side of the table he finished up the introductions. "This is Drakul and Lilith, they are head of Londinium's vampire sect. They mostly do pro bono work."

Raising their glasses, they greeted her with smiles that should have been warm, but they left her feeling cold.

Finally addressing the creature nearest to River, Marcus's smile grew. "Lastly, we have Cresil. He's the head of our research department."

The reptilian was a brilliant scientist but he had a fierce primal side that wasn't easily masked. There were hundreds of sexual harassment suits originating from his department annually. It was only fitting that River be situated next to him.

The demon leaned into River's space, relishing in the scent of human flesh. Marcus smiled maliciously as he watched the creature sniff around River, noticing her trembling hands as she fought for composure. Holding up his glass, he took a drink, savoring the rich aroma before commenting. "Coincidentally, he has a fondness for human girls."

Cresil turned from River, noting aloud his observations, his tongue clicking as he spoke. "Each creature has a distinct scent embedded in their DNA coding. This one's is especially unique." Leaning forward, he sniffed her again. "But when one emanates fear, I find it especially arousing."

River closed her eyes and swallowed hard. Unconsciously, she began to rubbing her thumb along the serrated edge of the knife at her placing, counterbalancing the moment.

Lilith peered curiously at the girl. "Is she a mute?"

"No." Marcus confirmed." River is just being willful in an attempt to spite me. It'll pass."

Culverton noticed Marcus's indifference and turned to River. "We've heard a lot about you, River. You're something of a folklore legend. I trust Marcus has kept you in good spirits?" Taking a bite, he continued speaking through a mouth full. "Have you seen anything noteworthy in that head of yours?"

Marcus glared at his former assistant. "Any progress made here is strictly confidential. I know you feel like king of the castle right now, but don't confuse that with your actual insignificance."

Culvertion put his hands up in defense. "Calm down now, Marcus. Just an innocent query."

"I know you better than to believe that." Marcus sat back, eyeing his former assistant. "How are things holding up anyways? Have you run things into the ground yet?"

As they bickered, River pushed her thumb harder against the jagged edge of the knife until a dull pain warranted her to look down to find she had sliced it deep. The vampires turned towards her as she put her thumb to her lip, longing etched in their dark eyes as they watched her suckle the blood. She knew what they wanted, what they craved, the veil on their impulse weighing thin.

River sat back, idly tending to her wound and glared at them challengingly. A newfound courage coursed through her veins as she broke the silence, her voice laced with a hollow eeriness. "The human body can be drained of blood in 8.6 seconds given adequate vacuuming systems."

The table erupted into laughter. Not missing a beat, Culverton raised his class to the vampires, who were lingering on her every movement. " Now, there's food for thought, eh."

Lilith cracked a dark smile. "Oh, Marcus, she's absolutely adorable." Although, the vampire was sure most of her fondness was due to the bloodlust. The bottled stuff Greta was serving couldn't quite quench the thirst like the real thing.

Marcus couldn't suppress a chuckle at that. "She's, _something,_ alright."

River was seething. This was all a big show, one she didn't want to attend in the first place. He was just like _them_, draining her of everything, pushing her beyond her limits, crowding her mind when it was already spilling out the top and then parading his accomplishments as if they were worth owning.

The desire to be more than an object for gawking overpowered her as she shrunk back in her chair, away from the thoughts, shouting at her tormenter. "Stupid son of a bitch, dress me up like a gorramn doll!"

Marcus was unfazed as everyone turned to witness the breakdown. "See what I mean? _Something_. As in a completely psychotic mess."

"Well, I still think she's charming." Lilith confirmed in between a sips of luke-warm blood.

Marcus considered River for a moment as they might see her. She had managed to win them over with her morbid appeal.

Ironically, she did resemble a doll tonight, dark hair piled high, showing off her long graceful neck, ivory skin that could have easily been made of porcelain. Sitting there, he could tell she was eternally broken, her cracks showing through. It was a beautiful sight.

The group continued to chat amongst themselves, mostly about the growing vampire population in Londinium. The dark haired ones proudly spouted their numbers and figures.

River remained sunken in her chair like a rag doll, staring blankly at her untouched food as she quietly muttered to herself, mindlessly twirling a strand of hair that had gotten loose.

Cresil ignored the shoptalk, turning his interest towards the girl. Rising from his seat, he moved behind her and paced, stopping occasionally to drink her in. Marcus looked up with slight interest, making sure to keep his eye on the situation in between conversations, a flicker of unease in the pit of his stomach.

It wasn't until the thing reached out and ran his clawed fingers wantonly over the girls shoulder that Marcus sat up straighter. A pang of unexpected jealousy seared through him, his eyes burning as he glared across the table. He didn't appreciate Cresil's scaly paws on the girl, molesting her in the same manner he had hours before. She wasn't common property.

Marcus clenched his jaw, keeping his tone even yet powerful. "Cresil, I must ask you to desist in your exploration and return to your seat." For the first time since knowing her, he saw the girl more as his equal. She was too good for the current company, too special to be corrupted by them. The honor should be his alone.

The creature lifted his face up from River's neck, pouting. He was just about to taste her when Marcus interrupted. "I thought you said I could play." He whined, looking back at the girl, a hopeful lust still in his yellow eyes.

River picked her head up and gazed directly at Marcus, wobbly, broken, but aware of the demon's inference. A small part of her felt betrayed by her caretaker despite there being no reason to believe him loyal.

"Well, I've changed my mind." Marcus announced firmly. "Now take your hands off of her before I remove them completely." A part of him hoped the demon would challenge his order. It has been too long since he'd had some decent violence.

However, Cresil acquiesced and moped back to his seat, occasionally eyeing River with an unnatural longing.

River looked warily at the demon before slipping completely out of her chair and disappearing under the table. On hands and knees, she crawled across the floor the distance to Marcus.

It wasn't trust that brought her to him, rather the heat of emotion that rarely surfaced, a light through the dark, beckoning her. Lust, hunger and death filled her head, sucking her into oblivion and she needed to escape before she was lost forever.

When she reached Marcus, she grabbed a hold of his chair and curled her legs under her, resting her head against the side of it, making sure to stay out of sight.

Marcus looked down when he felt something brush up against his leg. He should have been angry at River for her unladylike behavior, crawling around like a lowly dog. Nevertheless, he supposed it was better that she be out of Cresil's immediate vicinity.

Throughout the remainder of dinner, the mental image of long black claws trailing, touching, and tainting the girl's flesh nagged at him. More than once he had to still the urge to take her upstairs and scrub her clean, until her skin was fresh and new again.

Unconsciously, Marcus reached down with his left hand to stroke her hair, the soft texture familiar between his fingers, reminding him just how many times he'd brushed it for her. Marcus glared at Cresil, pondering his revenge. He just couldn't let this one go.

After all, he never did like the idea others handling his things.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

Notes: Another month elapses in the 'verse since chapter 6, bringing total story elapse to 5 months.

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Marcus clenched his teeth as the music swelled with such tremendous force that caused the walls around him to reverberate violently. If he had to listen to _Laudate Dominum _one more time he was liable to cause an apocalypse of his own.

At present, he was trying to complete the last of the forms for Cresil's replacement. He had located a scientist in the Ollindark dimension that seemed promising, only the girl was breaking his concentration. Switching off the cortex screen in his office, he decided she needed to be dealt with immediately.

Marcus stalked down the hall towards the music's source, wincing as his head throbbed in annoyance. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy the classics. He preferred them, actually. However, upon the 38th replay, his appreciation for them was waning. "Core bred teenagers," he muttered under his breath.

As he entered the dining room, Marcus noticed that the long table and chairs had been pushed against the wall, creating a makeshift dance floor. The girl was slowly dipping and rising to the sway of the music, her tiny, bare feet expertly guiding her as she twisted to the harmony. Hmmm. So, she was a dancer as well as a pain in the ass.

Folding his arms, he leaned back against the wall, momentarily awe-stuck by her grace. The girl was wearing a sleeveless cream-colored number, which fit her in the bodice like a second skin. Fringes of lace twirled with her as she spun. She didn't seem aware of his presence, and if she were, she was hiding it well. All of her focus and energy was concentrated on the ballet.

For all of her deficiencies, he had quickly learned the girl possessed an equal amount of brilliance. He found her incongruous behavior confounding. One day she'd be rubbing her food in his hair, claiming that the follicles were starving, and the next, she was going on about theoretical physics.

Just yesterday, she had spent the entirety of the morning drawing Matryoshka dolls, and when he noted her skill, she smiled and gave him the print calling it a peace offering. He had handed it right back, informing her that he was in the business of pandemonium, not amity.

Later that day, he had found the art posted to the fridge with a note that simply read; _Truce. _Apparently, part of her condition included bouts of delusion.

River looked up from her bow as the song ended and directly into Marcus's eyes. Puffing away the hair that had fallen across her face, her expression lit up and she smiled brightly at him. "Good, you're done. Hid your dagger again. Bet you can't find it this time!" she exclaimed breathlessly.

Marcus growled low as he pushed himself from the wall. "I'm not playing your childish games today, River. Please retrieve the weapon and return it to its case."

River's flushed cheeks fell, her chin turning up into an indignant pout as she stuck her little pink tongue out at him. Marcus raised an eyebrow as she marched past him, noting the bounce in her step.

---

Dinner that night was different from the usual fare. Instead of awkward silences or the monotonous scrape, scrape of metal against porcelain, there was actual interaction.

It started when River put her fork down and placed her elbows on the table, resting her chin in her palms. Unblinkingly, she stared at Marcus, keeping her features at straight as possible.

Fork in mid-air, Marcus did a double-take at her persistent gaze. "_What_ may I ask, are you doing?" He eyed her cautiously, ready for whatever strange thing she was going to do next.

River kept her lips pursed together as she spoke. "First one to crack a smile looses."

Marcus's eyebrows rose even higher. "Pardon me?"

River rolled her eyes at his dimness. "It's a game of willpower. Stare into my eyes."

As he scrutinized her unwavering expression, Marcus realized the girl was dead serious. Apparently the playful and girlish thing was becoming a steady routine.

Marcus thought a moment, trying to figure on his stance on the behavior. Mostly he felt indifferent. What could it hurt? Just another thing to beat her at doing.

Setting down his fork, he pushed his plate aside and folded his arms across the table. "Alright. I'll play your little game, but only because you're so sure of yourself." Marcus's expression retained its trade hollowness as he plunged in to the depths of her deep brown eyes with his own.

They stayed like this a full five minutes, neither wavering, nor blinking. He wondered if the girl was even breathing, she was so still. The irony of the game hit him as he studied her determined features. It had been like this between them since the beginning, each fighting for a foothold above the other, scrambling up a sheer faced cliff.

Every once in a while he could see flashes of himself in her, the strength she held onto as he pushed her dangerously close to the brink. Alternatively, the things he couldn't recognize or relate to intrigued him in a way no human had ever before.

Marcus wavered at that realization. It wasn't what he had intended at all, to be fascinated by a bottom dweller, by a girl whose existence equated a mere blink in time. Tearing his blue eyes from hers, he found it suddenly hard to look at her. Standing abruptly, his chair screeched back, piercing the quiet. "We're done here."

River was stunned; she hadn't expected him to give up so soon. Satisfaction tugged at the corners of her mouth, but she kept the smile from taking over as she looked up at him. "Will you admit defeat?"

"Hardly." Marcus snorted. He didn't like the inference in her tone, like she was somehow in control. "I just have more useful things to do with my time. As should you." He scanned the room briefly before returning his attention to back to her. "Since you're appearing more coherent than usual, you can start with tiding up the kitchen. I'll be in my office the rest of the evening and would prefer not to be bothered."

River followed Marcus with her large eyes as he left the room, getting the faint impression that she had stirred something within the creature.

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After clearing the table and washing the dishes, River habitually made her way through the apartment to Marcus's office. Feeling braver than usual, she wondered if he had changed his mind about wanting company. The enormity of his presence was her sanctuary, the secret to her newfound clarity.

As she approached, she noticed his door was ajar. Cautiously, she peeked her head through the opening, careful not to make a sound. The back of his large chair obstructed her view, but she new he was there.

A fluttering of anxiety welled up in her stomach as she raised her hand to knock. Looking between her fist and the door, the feeling grew and overwhelmed her, so she dropped her hand, deciding instead to sit outside the room until the feeling went away.

"I know you're there." Marcus announced as he leaned back against his chair, scrubbing his hands over his face. The girl was draining him, it seemed lately she always around. He liked it better when she knew her place. "Might as well enter." He invited reluctantly.

River hesitated, still unsure. The room was uncharted territory, his lair. Pushing the door open, she looked around the dim space for the first time. The left wall was lined with hundreds of texts, most in languages she had never seen before.

Something drew her to the ancient bindings and she forgot her apprehension as curiosity beckoned. They contained secrets greater then the ones in buried in her mind and it propelled her forward like a moth to a flame. Running her fingers over the collection she inquired about them absently. "All of these yours?"

"In a manner of speaking." Marcus alluded as he watched her tiny fingers skim over everything in their path. He followed her every movement from the shadows of his chair like a predator stalking his prey.

Turning from the books, River took in the lone, medium-sized painting, situated on the opposite wall. An image of a giant dominated the space, the menacing figure painted among wisps of pink and grey clouds. Set against a dark sky, the figure loomed over a valley of panic and trepidation, people scattering in terror amongst the pandemonium.

"Goya." River whispered, a chill crawling it's way up her spine. "El Panico"

Marcus leaned into the light and chuckled. "Insightful, isn't it?"

Keeping her eye on the foreboding depiction, she answered him. "Fate can be altered. Destruction averted."

Marcus cocked his head. "You know that's not true, River. Deep down you have all the answers. When they eventually become apparent, that silly thing called hope that you desperately cling to will be just another meaningless word."

River was unaffected by Marcus's cynicism as she continued to stare at the art, transfixed by something buried within the hues. "Everything has meaning. You are colorblind. There's something behind it. Something you don't want me to see."

Marcus tensed up. Maybe it wasn't the brightest idea to let a reader into his office. He really needed to stop letting his guard down around the girl. Before she could prod further, he stood up and grabbed her arm, pulling her from the study, and pushed her into the hall. "Go play, hide, or whatever it is that you do." Marcus instructed firmly. "And try not to destroy anything."

Still in a daze, River barely heard Marcus as she looked past him, unable to turn her attention from the room. Impressions of numbers flashed and dissipated in an instant, but the feeling of their importance remained.

Marcus noticed the girl's face was pinched with that faraway look again, the telltale sign she was up to no good. Placing his hand on the small of her back, he nudged her down the hall. "You heard me, go find something other than snooping to occupy your time."

River snapped out of her trance, remembering why she had come to Marcus in the first place. She didn't want _them_ to return, to clutter her mind with their silent screams. As paradoxical as it was, he kept them away. She needed to be near the edge of his imposing shadow despite the risk of falling underneath its all-consuming darkness.

Looking up into Marcus's deceptively handsome face, she hoped to always recognize the shiver that made her blood run cold as a warning, and not enticement.

Except, as she took his large hand in both of hers it felt warm and misleading. He had skin, flesh and bone just as any other, and the illusion of it tempted her into a false sense of comfort. The contact made her feel anchored. Contentment sedated her as she smiled up at him. "Come. Found entertainment." She directed, tugging on his hand.

Marcus looked down at her skeptically. "I'm not going to spend the evening in another staring contest."

"Something different." River agreed thoughtfully. "A king and his knights."

It took Marcus only a moment to figure out what she was talking about. He was becoming almost entirely fluent in crazy. "You mean chess?"

River nodded her head and bit her lip apprehensively as she waited for his decision.

Marcus looked back to his office, he still had a bunch unfinished work to get to and he was also reluctant to encourage these little 'bonding sessions'. However, deep down he knew it wouldn't make a difference, not for what they had in store.

"Alright, but just one match." He relented for the second time in one night. "And don't make this a habit of this. I'm not your little friend. You and I will never be equals."

River rolled her eyes at the assertion as she pulled him down the hall into the living room, chastising him in a familiar manner. "You're a sadistic megalomaniac. Wouldn't aspire to be like you."

---

The fire crackled and popped, the orange-yellow flicker teasing the dim edges of the space just beyond where River and Marcus were situated.

The minutes dissolved into hours as they challenged one another's mental prowess, this time with organized strategy and silent contemplation.

River leaned over the board and snatched up Marcus's piece, replacing it with her own. "Bishop takes King. I win!" River exclaimed. Smiling gleefully, she returned the pieces to their original positions, her enthusiasm radiant. "Let's go again."

Marcus frowned, wondering how the girl managed to beat him once more. He set down his glass of wine and poked at the fire, observing her exultant behavior from the corner of his eye.

The past few weeks _had_ been fair for her sanity. To his astonishment, she hadn't destroyed a single item of his or gone off into her cryptic world of nonsense. She also had managed her own care and had attempted to cook on several occasions, most of it rather inedible, all the while being gallingly energetic.

He didn't know which personality was more exhausting, the knife-wielding psychotic or the brilliant, exuberant one.

It was odd, seeing her like this, sound, healthy, and not wanting to take it all away.

Sensing Marcus's thoughts, River looked up and smiled whimsically. "The sun came out. I work. I function like I'm a girl."

Returning the poker to its stand, Marcus leaned back on his right arm and eyed River up and down. "Yes, well, I think it's time for this functioning girl to retire to bed."

River pouted in disappointment. "Just one more? I'll let you win."

Marcus shook his head. "You've kept me from several deadlines that need attending to." Standing, he brushed the hairs from the rug off of his trousers and offered a large hand down to her. "Up you go."

River put her small hand in his and stood up. "I can help. Be of use. Productive."

Marcus was amused. "Well, I'm scheduled to bear witness to a torturing via the cortex in a bit. A new trainee, you see. You're welcome to join me."

River's smile faded as she let go of his hand. Torture was something with which she was all too familiar with. The immediate memory of scalpels and needles caused her to shudder. The bits she had held down for so long painfully climbed their way up, the bile like jagged rocks.

Marcus smile deepened. "Change your mind?"

Tilting her fallen chin back up to him, he brushed his thumb across it soothingly, basking once again in the sanguine vulnerability that poured from her. He realized this was the way he preferred her, completely submissive. "Have you forgotten so easily?" He cooed gently, maintaining his own artifice of compassion.

Momentarily incapacitated, River forgot her nausea and closed her eyes. "You make it so easy." She whispered, gulping as her heart betrayed her, stuttering under his control, under his placating touch. She tried not to feel the things he was making her feel, like putty in his hands. Her emotions confused her; _he_ confused her.

Thick, black lashes fluttered before they opened again. Looking up at her dark keeper, River wondered if the glimmer of something indiscernible within him could be reached, if he could ever feel just a spark of the emotions that rendered her powerless.

As she looked deep into his hypnotizing blues, a larger part of her feared he was the epitome of Pandora's box.

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The next morning when Marcus emerged from his bedroom, he found River peering longingly out the large window atop the staircase. Casually, he strode over to her, noticing the faraway look on her face. Leaning down, he whispered tauntingly in her ear. "Are we thinking about jumping again?"

River startled at Marcus's deep voice, but kept her gaze straight ahead. There was a hint of optimism in her tone as she spoke. "Let's go outside today."

"You know that's not possible, River." Marcus looked down at the small girl next to him. "Besides, we have everything we need right here."

River remained silent for a minute before trying again. "There's a park." She pointed past several complexes to a patch of trees in the distance and looked up at Marcus with the utmost seriousness. "We could take a walk. Stroll through while holding hands like a normal couple."

Marcus cleared his throat, not sure how to respond when he noticed River's eyebrows lift, her expression light. "Made you blush." She teased.

"I don't blush." Marcus exclaimed indignantly. "Wouldn't even know how. Embarrassment is a human emotion, a weakness contrary to my nature."

River clasped her hands behind her back and cocked her head as she schooled him. "Defensiveness is a sign of culpability."

There was that infuriating smile again. Marcus snorted at her. "You're a real brat when you're sane, you know that?"

River grinned proudly at the indictment. "Simon says…" Halting mid-sentence, her smile faltered, the glow draining from her face as she was hurtled back to reality.

It had been weeks since she had last thought of her brother. Guilt weakened her insides at the mental treachery. Leaving behind the pseudo world she had tried to create for herself, the deep ache returned full force. She missed her _gei gei_, longed for him and everything he represented. It had been so long since she'd last seen him, years. She had forgotten his smile, his tender laugh, his knowing eyes filled with years of wisdom. As faint as her memory was, she knew at least it was real, that he was real.

Turning, she fell silent and continued to stare out the window, watching the small forms below enjoy the daylight. She could feel their happiness just beyond her reach, the same feeling she was trying to imitate, but it was no longer working. A dark cloud now hovered, chaos seeping its way back in through the cracks.

The light was gone from her eyes when she finally turned and looked up at Marcus, her tone accusing. "You're hiding me from them. Underneath the gleam and polish of the emerald city." Her eyes brimmed with tears, her voice pleading as she held Marcus's gaze. "There's no place like home. I want to go home."

Marcus's lip twitched, anger flooding him instantly. He had gone out of his way these past few weeks to appease her, for reasons he couldn't even place. The thing was completely ungrateful. His voice was cold as he addressed her. "Well, you can't. You're a big girl, River. It's time you face up to your reality." Marcus paused for effect, he was going savor the pain his last promise inflicted. "You're never going to see your brother again."

River wavered as Marcus's words tore through her, causing her bones to liquefy. She struggled to keep her body from sagging to the floor; she couldn't give him that satisfaction again. Through her pain there was a stubbornness that keep her buoyant, from completely slipping beneath the waves.

She had fooled herself into believing she could adapt, that she could become friends with the monster by trivializing the barriers. The realization of her own folly was more devastating than anything Marcus could ever do to her.

Looking up at him with unsteady eyes, River sounded more miserable than she had ever been before. "You were correct. Can't forget what you are."

Marcus smirked, happy to see that his fragile, broken flower had retuned. "Can't say I didn't warn you."

"Yes, you win." River admitted vacantly as she brushed past Marcus. The thread of hope she clung to dissolved with the admission.

Slamming the door to his room, she locked herself within and leaned back against it. There were no tears, not this time. Only emptiness.

TBC

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	8. Chapter 8

Notes: Another month time lapse, around 6 months plus.

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Pulling his pillow over his head, Marcus shifted on the couch, trying to block out the blood-curdling screams emanating from his bedroom upstairs. The girl had been at it half the night, waking in hysterics and then passing out by her own asphyxiation. Just listening to it alone was exhausting.

It had been like this for the past several weeks, indolence during the day contrasted by gratuitous terror at night. This spell was worse than all of her previous ones. No doubt it was spurred on by her reclusive behavior. The thing was practically a ghost of her former self.

In the beginning, he would lie awake, a twisted smile on his face as he relished in the girl's misery. After all, he had found a loophole to the _no damaging the crazed human directive_.

However, after dealing with nearly 7 months of mounting psychosis, he was beginning to feel a bit mad himself. The horrid girl had ruined yet another beautiful thing for him. Taking pleasure in her misery just wasn't as enticing as it used to be.

This job was upsetting the balance of his preferred standard of living, seclusion, order, and a whole lot of calculated mayhem.

That's not to say he didn't entertain an occasional plaything, but they never lasted long. He never understood the want some creatures had for companionship. It seemed to be a deficiency instilled at birth, the need for someone else to make them feel complete.

Customarily, he was the first to know about anything and everything. These days he felt more like how he imagined a human must feel, helplessly blind and uncontrolled of their fates. River Tam was turning his world upside down with her unpredictable nature and it frustrated him that he couldn't control a single aspect of her.

His flawless record of destruction and ill will should have attested for more than this. After the Angel fiasco, he knew the partners wanted to be more cautious, but surely a lesser creature could be put in charge of the girl's undertaking?

Tossing and turning, he grew more furious with the girl's incessant noise. He wanted to feel refreshed and appear well rested for tomorrow's review. It was disreputable to be any less than at the top of your game when meeting with the partners.

Pitching the blanket from his boxer clad body, he growled low, and stomped up the stairs in fury, shaking the building with tremendous force. When he reached the bedroom, he swung the door open, the sheer force of his strength causing it to become unhinged. Tossing it aside like a piece of cardboard, he descended upon the small, shaking thing on his bed.

Grabbing her wrists, he yanked her up to his level, fire burning behind his eyes. He wanted to chuck her across the room like he had the door and be done with it, with her.

In the dark, River's tear-glistened eyes shone vulnerably. Again, she was not fearful of him, even as he gripped her wrists with bone crushing strength. Her misery was beyond him, a living torrent inside her head.

River looked at Marcus pleadingly, as if he could somehow save her from herself. "Won't stop. Won't ever stop." She chanted. "They'll just keep coming until they get back what you took." Looking pointedly at her hands between them, she examined them carefully as if the were not her own. "Two by two, hands of blue. Two by two, hands of blue."

Marcus's anger subsided some and he lessened his painful grip on her as a slight smirk crept over his face. He understood her bizarre rant and took pleasure in the knowledge that he had inadvertently aided in the girl's anguish.

"Ah, hands of blue. Horrible, horrible men. In fact, they're colleagues of mine. I can set up an introduction if you'd like?" He offered indifferently. Yes, he was feeling much better now. Retribution was sweet.

River's knees buckled and she began to shake violently at the proposal; the only thing keeping her erect was Marcus's hold on her. "No!" She cried, breaking into wretched sobs, the memory of her most recent nightmare still a fresh reality her mind.

Then, instead of pulling away, she flung herself onto him, clinging tightly as she buried her face into his chest. "Please." She whimpered into his skin. "You must stop them. Looking for me where I cannot be found. They will kill them all!"

Well, that was a first, Marcus thought as he felt the girl's hot pleas of desperation against his flesh. He supposed she was speaking of her brother and the band of thieves he was now traveling among, most likely with the ridiculous notion he could somehow find his precious sister.

It would make sense that Mr. Stevenson and Mr. Wayneright were contracted to seek River out. After all, her true whereabouts were known by only a precious few in the conglomerate. The hands of blue, while useful, weren't very high up on the corporate latter.

What was more curious was the way the girl was holding on to him now, like he was her salvation. Hadn't she already learned he was not her ally? Perhaps he hadn't been cruel enough.

"You have." River mumbled against his chest and unwrapped her arms from around his waist, sliding them up around his neck. His body was warm, comforting, and she wanted to disappear inside the shell of him, use his strength to become whole again.

He was going to pry her off just then, but her words and actions halted him. The girl was fully aware of his abhorrence for her, and yet, she pressed her little body even tighter to his. He found the physicality of her need interesting.

"Keep your enemies close." She agreed, her whisper caressing his ear, causing his body temperature to rise slightly. This was the price you pay for temporary abstinence, being easily aroused by frail, sickly things.

It didn't matter, he had already decided that tomorrow he would convince the partners to reassign him after he pointed out the benefits of his uses elsewhere. Then, that very evening he could set to ravaging the first decent creature to cross his path. The anticipation of such events helped spur his arousal; seven months was way too long to go without, even when you existed eternally.

River shivered as she felt his lust. It drifted off him thickly, rich and strangely intoxicating. His licentious thoughts were the closest thing to pleasurable emotion she'd experienced in years and it overwhelmed her. Her body, mind and soul were not her own as the effect of them took hold. She half whimpered and moaned as his fantasies filled her head, flashes of skin on skin, heaving, hurting and pounding with an unearthly need.

A slight trepidation arose in the part of her that knew better as she fought her body's natural impulse to completely submit to him. All along she had been struggling against her unhealthy draw to the creature but now she was fast slipping into the depths of temptation. She wondered if this is how his victims had felt right before they reached their end, so completely spellbound that they didn't care if they lived or died.

Forgetting her place and the little self-control she possessed, River turned her face and nuzzled skin that smelled of crisp linen, sharp cologne and potent male. The power he encompassed drove her wild in ways she barely recognized.

Cautiously testing their unspoken boundary further, she found his pulse and tentatively kissed him there, his lifeblood cold and surging beneath her lips.

A slow devious smile spread across Marcus's face at the realization of the girl's attraction to him, and he wondered how he managed to miss it up until now. After all, inspiring and feeding off of a woman's desire was his forte.

Marcus had to admit though, out of all her unexpected behaviors, this one was the most welcome. He knew that River despised him, or at least what he was underneath, and that made her actions all the more appealing.

River pulled back and ran her hand down Marcus's arm slowly, exploring his naked body in that listless way that always fascinated him. She looked up at him expectantly as she trailed her fingers, the innocence in her eyes taunting him in the worst of ways. Purity and virtue were coveted aphrodisiacs for his kind, and she was dangling them right in front of his face.

As he stared back unwaveringly into her eyes, the prospect of her silent offer grew more thrilling by the second. There were no thoughts of guilt or propriety to hamper him. He was going to utilize this new vulnerability of hers to the fullest. She really had no idea.

Impulsively, Marcus placed his large hands on River's narrow hips and pulled her flush against his pelvis, watching as her eyes widened in surprise. She was so small under his hands, so very breakable, yet at the same time resilient in a way he'd never come up against before.

Marcus brushed River's long hair over her shoulder, exposing the graceful curve of her neck and dipped his head down, kissing her right below the ear. He savored the intoxicating release of pheromones as he moved his lips lightly, knowing just how to make her weak.

River's body went slack as he found the spot that turned her into mush, tearing down her last shred of resistance. She knew this was it; there was no coming back from fire and brimstone.

Feeling her falter, Marcus slipped his arm around her to keep her steady, and scooped her up effortlessly. River clung to him loosely, watching him with eyes that knew too much and not nearly enough.

Marcus walked them around the side of his bed and laid her down upon it. Standing upright, he took a moment to consider her, sweeping his eyes across her young, supple body. Her slight curves were obscurely visible through the thin material of her nightgown, freshly tempting him.

He had tried to dominate her before, battle her into submission to no avail. A rare excitement gripped him as he realized she would finally be his. His pretty little broken doll, lying there, ready for the taking.

Desire sprang from his hate like hellfire as he thought of owning her completely, dominating every tender inch of her. He was going to corrupt her repeatedly and ferociously and enjoy every tumultuous minute of it.

Unabashedly, Marcus shed his boxers, watching as the girl dissected the sight before her, and smirking when he noticed a silent trepidation enter her features. She was smart enough to know it wasn't going to be an easy fit. The thought of causing her pain instantly thrilled him.

Crawling over her still form, Marcus pushed open River's legs and settled down in between, making sure to keep his eyes locked with hers. He could see the apprehension in them now, and relished in the virgins naiveté. He wondered if she'd dare to make the same mistake of wanting him again when he was done with her.

The intensity in Marcus's eyes caused anxiety to swell in the pit of River's stomach. As he loomed over her, his thoughts were devious, abysmal, and they frightened her with their potency.

Except, had she really expected him to go easy on her? The price to feel was high, agony, a calculated risk. She had inadvertently sold her soul to the devil for a spark of intimacy.

Shifting his weight to one hip, Marcus turned his attention to River's lower half, pushing up her nightgown over her hips and exposing her long legs, dancer's legs that contained a killer's strength.

Slowly, he ran one large hand up her calf, admiring her pale skin in this new light, his handling of her no longer dutiful but iniquitous. As he continued down the inside of her thigh, the texture reminded him Chinese silk, soft, lavish and beautifully uncontaminated.

River trembled with a mix of longing and fear under Marcus's self-assured touch. Being handled like this was a foreign thing for which she hardly had reference.

As his fingers slipped under the lace of her panties, River's lips parted slightly and she let out a small gasp they brushed over the parts of her that were already swollen. Closing her eyes, she let her body relax as he explored her, his thick fingers sliding through her wetness, both quelling and intensifying the ache.

Marcus expertly maneuvered the girls panties from her body with one hand as he continued to toy with her arousal, surprising himself with his gentle patience. He told himself he was priming her up for things to come, trying to ignore the distant part of him that enjoyed causing the broken thing pleasure.

His fingers were moving shallowly now, one finger working in and out, slowly teasing, just enough to cause her to squirm in agony before he removed completely.

River opened her eyes at the loss and peered down curiously as Marcus, who flashed her an impish grin before disappearing between her legs.

Suddenly, he was kissing the inside of her thigh, tinges of pleasure sparking from his soft lips everywhere they made contact with skin. The feeling intensified as he neared her center, his hot breath tormenting, so close to where she ached, where she craved his concentrated attention.

Marcus reached his hands underneath her thighs and gripped her waist, pulling her to him forcefully, and incased her mound with his hot mouth all at once.

River arched her body upon contact, gripping at the bed sheets on either side as Marcus used his tongue and mouth in ways no mortal could ever match. He devoured her hungrily, his carnal side emerging full force, delighting in the shrieks of pleasure that poured from the girl, filling the quiet room.

A new kind of intensity seized River entirely. Her own explorations paled to the sensations whirling about her now. Her whole body felt aflame, a raw sensitivity building as she neared the edge of implosion.

Marcus could feel her tense. She was nearing the edge of feeling things he was sure her young body had never felt before and it was his job to ensure that she never would. Waiting until the last possible second, he pulled away, cruelly leaving the girl unfulfilled, confused, and wanting him more desperately than ever.

As Marcus moved up her body, he was surprised to find that his own want was becoming virtually uncontrollable. Looking down at her now, flushed, gasping, and halfway towards utter depravity, the urge to plunge into her innocence and fuck her savagely, could barely be contained. He couldn't remember the last time his lust spiraled this out of control.

Gripping her nightgown, he tore it down the middle, revealing her small breasts and slight form. He wanted all of her exposed to him when he took her.

Looking deep into the girl's large brown eyes, Marcus reached his hand back down between them and lazily stroked her once again, watching as her face deepened with pleasure. "Do you know what I want to do to you, River?" He asked rhetorically, practically purring. He was going to have her, permission or not.

Biting her lip, River nodded in complete understanding as flashes of the proposed danced through her mind, causing her to shudder. She no longer feared him, how could she when her body was screaming to be had?

Reaching her hand up, she smoothed it along Marcus's face and lifted her head to bridge the gap between them, bringing her lips to his. She kissed his mouth softly, with a deep and tender passion and as she pulled away, she whispered her consent against his lips. "Make me feel."

In the moment her lips touched his, soft, trusting and pure, a spark of something foreign seized his body. It took control of the strength that coursed through his veins and rendered him powerless. No one had ever dared to kiss him like that before, so completely unafraid.

Marcus's brow wrinkled in confusion, a dizziness gripping him as he watched a pleased smile dance across River's lips.

This was not the standard course of things. Something was terribly wrong. He had been weakened, corrupted, and her coy smile was hiding the truth. Abruptly, he launched himself off of her, hoping to rid himself of the paralyzing sensation.

Sitting on the side of the bed, he bent over and pressed his palm to his head trying to regain his equilibrium.

River sat up, confused, and placed her small hand against his back hesitantly, afraid his skin might burn her on contact.

Marcus shook the fog from his head, turning as he felt her cool, questioning touch. Anger had once again taken over his blue eyes as he glared at her over his shoulder. "What exactly are you?" Grabbing her chin hard, he growled angrily. "Did you break into my library, memorize the spell books? Is this some sort of reprisal?"

River shook her head vehemently against his hold, a distant pain bruising her jaw. "Not a witch. Just a girl." She contested.

Marcus released her and snickered as he stood, looking her up and down with eyes that belonged to the Marcus before tonight. "Yes, thanks for reminding me of that fact." Turning from her, he made his way to the door.

River's eyes welled up with tears, not understanding what she had done wrong. She already missed his hands on her body, touching her like she was a tangible thing. She had felt so much, and it was slipping away like a dying star. She couldn't let that go. Kneeling on the bed she called after him, pleading with vanishing hope. "Please don't leave. Stay with me."

Marcus turned, his eyes cold. "Didn't anyone ever tell you that desperation is off-putting?"

His callous tone tore through her gut, making her feel naked beyond her skin. Sitting back, she watched him leave, trying to sort through the jumbled emotions inundating her, her body and mind spinning madly.

Quickly escaping the room, Marcus charged down the steps, making his way to the downstairs bathroom to douse himself in a cold shower. He couldn't go on like this, feeling as if he was in a constant state of losing control, the very essence of his existence.

Come morning, the girl would be as good as gone.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Same day as chapter 7,"Witch". Finally, I know! At least I didn't give up entirely. : ) FYI, I'm half way through the next chapter and no logner feel stuck, so you won't have to wait so long this time.

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_The light was white hot, stinging her vision as she tripped over the numerous corpses littering the vacant streets. Bones, brittle from the harsh sun, snapped and crunched under her knees as she fell upon them. Scampering upright, she tried not to look at their faces, their hollowed eyes and mouths agape as they screamed nothing. _

_No matter where she turned, death surrounded her and she was drowning under the weight of their tragic secret; they had died alone, numb, and stripped of the joy they had once known. Men, women and children alike had given up, lay down weary, vacant, and surrendered to death, their will to live inexplicably vanquished._

_Her body grew heavy as she roamed through the massive graveyard, sorrow thick and heavy in the pink-gray sky. The need to rest swept over her, lulling her into a docile haze, so she dropped down to her knees and pressed her body to the asphalt; the surface under her cheek, warm or cold, she could no longer discern. Finally, she understood their silent misery. _

River sat up in bed, dazed and confused, before placing herself back in her surreal reality. The house was silent, and remnants from her dream left a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach.

The dead often haunted her, filled her nights with their tattered and decrepit images, whispering fragments that turned her soul cold. Sometimes it felt so real, she feared she would be sucked into their world. That she would be forever lost in a sea of the living dead.

River pushed the heavy feeling away along with the blanket covering her. Looking down, she noticed she was still wearing the nightgown Marcus had torn in two the night before, her body still vulnerably exposed. Her naked flesh was a curious thing in this new light; the morning after near submission.

Closing her eyes, she traced her hand down the exposed path, imagining hands not her own, powerful and forbidden. The urge to bathe in his darkness was as overwhelming as ever. Something deep within was building, a cataclysmic storm the confines of her delicate skin could not contain.

Shrugging the flimsy gown off her shoulders, she slipped from the bed and grabbed her robe, pulling it over her goosed flesh. Walking through the house, she aimlessly searched the empty rooms for the one creature that could sedate her before she awoke fully.

---

Marcus sat outside a ritzy little café in the heart of Londinium city, watching vigilantly over the rim of his steaming cup of coffee for anything to catch his eye. The crisp morning air contrasted nicely with the hot, bitter liquid as it burned a trail down his throat.

It was still early and the city was just waking up, the savviest go-getters trickling out onto the sidewalks to make their way to work. The tips of the tall, angular and sleek buildings caught the gleam of the rising sun, leaving everything in-between cast in a shadowy blue.

Setting down his cup with a clink, he leaned back, observing the behavioral landscape around him. Sometimes he liked to watch, silently observe the poor souls for whatever limited entertainment they might provide him.

These humans were so completely self-contained, walking around bravely under a cloak of naivety. The false security this perfect, little world provided them was a farce Marcus eagerly waited behind.

All of their meticulous planning, plotting and scheming were a slow building climax to utter destruction and chaos. Small acts of malevolence paled to the release and satisfaction of causing entire races to wipe one another out.

The hairs throughout Marcus' body stood on end at the pleasurable thought, the idea that he could defy and slowly twist human will against itself. Evil throughout many a dimension envied that level of power.

Smirking with pride, Marcus lifted his cup to his lips, watching as a woman passed by, gently pulling her small son along buy the hand. Skirting to the next scene with vague indifference, he observed the florist on the corner set a colorful arrangement on display ledge just outside his shop. Up the way, a man dropped an armful of books and then scurried to pick them up, only to have them tumble out of his arms a second time.

He had seen this all before, on different days, in different eras and moments in time. On rare occasion, one of them would catch him unaware by acting in a manner not so utterly intrinsic, interrupting centuries of mild boredom with a glimmer of unpredictability. Someone like River Tam.

Marcus' thoughts drifted back to the image of River passed out on his bed before he left, curled in a little ball with wild strands of hair sticking to her face. She had looked so small and pathetic, tangled up in ripped clothing, her pale cheeks painted with dried tears. Tears he had caused.

Standing there, he had watched her from the doorway for nearly an hour. A speck of time measured against eternity, but far too long for the likes of someone like him. Her breath was shallow, barely even detectable. Sleep mirroring death. The sight sent a rare shiver up his spine and he couldn't help but feel that she was the most beautiful mess he had ever seen.

It was then he knew he needed to rid himself of her. The girl was becoming dangerous to him in ways he never thought possible; craving her over the pain and suffering that was the vein of his existence.

Surely, proximity and confinement was to blame for this contamination. Pure evil did not form noxious bonds with disturbed little girls. Nor do they hesitate or second-guess as he did, for what he was about to do.

---

It was late in the day, the afternoon sun casting the grand staircase in a golden hue through the large window at the top. Marcus still had not returned, and she wondered if he would at all. Her fate was sealed. She was trapped on every level, in this prison or the next.

As River sat upon the cold, hard steps, she held out her arm, rotating it under the sunlight streaming in. Her skin was illuminated by the golden rays, translucent and bright, like an amber ghost. The longing to feel these colors on her skin was but a mere concept.

She was disconnecting from her former self. From the girl that felt everything, and before that, the one that had smiled and lived.

---

Marcus pushed through the clear, glass double doors and entered the clean, sleek lobby of the Blue Sun Corporation. Heads turned and curious eyes followed him to the receptionist's desk, where he leaned on one elbow, and smiled cheekily at the receptionist.

The petite redhead straightened up and self-consciously smoothed back her hair as she exclaimed, "Mr. Hamilton! It's been… I mean, we haven't had the pleasure of seeing you in the office in quite a while." The pretty thing leaned forward and lowered her voice to a whisper. "I thought you may have been exterminated."

Marcus tried to suppress a laugh. So unaware these new hires were. "Not likely to happen. I've, ah, been out on assignment." Reaching across the podium, he fingering her lapel and queried, "Heather, was it?"

The young woman's eyes brightened. He had actually remembered her name. Licking her lips coyly, she nodded her head, transfixed by the creature's magnetism. "What can I do for you, Sir?" She made the last words sound slow and deliberate, hoping to bait him in.

"I have a few things in mind." Marcus flirted back, his voice rich and deep. He moved his large hand down the front of her blouse, his fingers lightly grazing the material and lingering a moment at the top button before he jerked his hand away abruptly and tapped his finger on the appointment book in front of her. "I'm scheduled to met with the Senior Partners in the conduit room at eleven a.m., sharp. Let them know I'll be up promptly, will you?"

Heathers face fell, her fantasy turned _almost reality_, shattered. "Right. I'll let them know you're coming, Sir."

"That's a girl." Marcus sent her sly grin, which had the woman blushing all over again, and was on his way.

As he passed by the waiting room to the elevators, he overheard two men talking in low, monotone voices. The suits were huddled close together, absorbed in their conversation. "We'll arrive on Higgins Moon in less than a days time."

"Are you positive the girl is with them? I doubt who ever broke her out of the institution is affiliated with Dr. Tam. You witnessed the body count."

"We've exhausted all other measures. They will be found, searched, and disposed of. It's best to eliminate all possible variables."

Marcus cleared his throat, making himself known. The two stern looking men turned around and appraised Marcus up and down. Upon recognizing him as their superior, they nodded to him curtly.

"Excuse me, gentlemen. I couldn't help but overhear your conversation. You wouldn't happen to be speaking about Subject 443/95/4521?"

"We were." They both answered in unison, curiosity etched on their rubber faces.

"I think I may be able to help you." Marcus checked his wristwatch. 10:39. Yes, this wouldn't take long. "Right this way, gentlemen." Gesturing to the elevators, Marcus followed in after them and pushed the button for the 13th floor.

As the three men stood in a neat, quiet row, elevator music played softly in the background. Marcus looked down at Mr. Stevenson's and Mr. Wayneright's folded hands and smirked. "Nice gloves."

---

A clinking of metal awoke River from another horrid nightmare, sending her bolting upright in a panic. The vividness of her dream paralyzed her in a sweaty state of disorientation.

The men with blue hands were choking him again. Her Simon. Not with the blue, but red. He was on the ship like before, with the others. Faces familiar only in recurring dreams. There were all screaming in agony, asphyxiating in own their own blood.

River cringed at the messy visual, the horrid sound echoing in her head. Nausea and dizziness threatened her empty stomach. The reality of these images were so powerful, she had forgotten what had initially woke her.

The startling sound of heavy footsteps refreshed her memory a moment later. One or two pairs of them, she could not be sure. Cocking her head to the side, she listened attentively. Whoever they were had stopped at the base of the stairs and hesitated there.

River looked down at her hands. They were the color of skin. This would not do.

The screams continued to buzz in her head, making everything fuzzy. The sharp sound of dress shoes against marble grew louder, raising the hair on the back of her neck. The piercing noise, a countdown to her grim reality.

She could lie down. _They_ lied down.

No. River shook her head. Run. Hide. Fight? Crawling from the bed just as they reached the doorway, she scanned the room quickly, assessing items and calculating their usefulness in less than a second. There was not even a moment to reflect on where she gained this new adeptness.

Plucking a heavy candleholder from the ledge of the fireplace, she spun against the wall, making her body flush just as the door creaked open. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, fighting the urge to melt into a trembling mess.

When she snapped them open, all breath left her. The candleholder hit the floor with a thud, her grip forgotten.

"Planning on taking me out, were you?" Looking at the object resting on the carpet, Marcus smiled. "Is that the best you can do?"

TBC…


	10. Chapter 10

Castle in the sky

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You're here." River whispered in disbelief, staring at Marcus, who stood tall and imposing in the dark before her. She drank in the familiar blue of his eyes, forever impenetrable, as something akin to happiness filled her to the brim.

"Didn't think you'd come back for me." She confessed, remembering to breathe.

Marcus looked down at the girl, stifling a smile. He hadn't expected her to be this pleased to see him. Then again, he never knew what to expect from her.

"There happened to be no suitable replacements." He explained simply. "So, here I am. Strictly to finish the job." That wasn't entirely true, but it's not like honesty was one of his strong points.

With sight and sound attested for, only touch was needed to assure authenticity. River reached out to obtain physical proof, but Marcus turned away from her and flicked on the light before moving to the opposite side of the room.

Dropping her hand, she chose to remain silent as she watched him curiously.

Sliding open the closet door, Marcus stood assessing River's large collection of dresses, sweaters and coats, hanging in neat little rows. "I need you to pack some of your things." He instructed, his manner all business. "We'll be leaving here tomorrow."

Pulling out a colorful number, with straps fastened with small, daisy-shaped flowers, he considered it as if he were doing something more important, like deciding the fate of mankind. "We only have a few months left." He continued. "Might as well make the most of it."

"What is our destination?" River asked with uncertainty. She still wasn't sure that he didn't want to dispose of her. Pass her along to the next available evil. There were creatures with red eyes and serpent tongues bordering the edge of his thoughts.

Marcus paused as though he hadn't thought on it. "Were would you like to go?" He offered impulsively. "Pick anywhere. The universe is yours."

Lifting her eyebrows, River found it odd that he was giving her options. Putting her in control of their fate. She silently wondered if dark entities were prone to bouts of dementia.

"I prefer somewhere warm." Marcus added without looking up. "Just a suggestion."

River let herself relax, accepting this offer as the real thing. Various planets and desirable locations tumbled through her mind; anywhere would be better than here.

She imagined herself sailing through the black, free as a bird, able to land wherever she desired with no restrictions.

Except there were. They were everywhere. In her head, in the walls, they were the walls.

The feeling of falling through space gripped her insides; a nothingness filling her with dread. Simon. In her sleep they came, vision upon tormenting vision.

"No! They come out of the black." She chanted, her body trembling. "They come when you call."

Marcus rolled his eyes as River started towards the door. Grabbing her by the arm, he pulled her back to him, holding firm as she struggled against his grasp.

"They're falling out of the sky!" She pleaded. A new sense of urgency made her frantic, incoherent. "Outside force must act upon…upon motion…acting."

Marcus increased his grip, squeezing her shoulders and forcing her to look at him as he calmly spoke. "No one is going to fall out the sky." He paused, considering this. "Well, not for several more weeks to be exact. But you need not worry about that." His grin was malicious.

River, startled from her fit, searched Marcus' face, seeing a new truth. Images beyond his words. "You took care of it." She confirmed carefully. "Bled them of their own cause."

Reaching up, she traced a trembling finger along his bottom lip, struggling to understand. "Why?"

Flinching at her touch, Marcus released her and turned to busy himself, shrugging his broad shoulders. "It's of no importance."

"It is. To me." River countered earnestly. "There are things you cannot hide."

"Are you going to help or not?" Marcus demanded as he pulled a handful of dresses from the closet and threw them across the bed. Really, this whole I can see inside your head business was becoming quite annoying.

River made her way to stand next to the giant, her eyes glued to him as they worked. She barely paid attention to her duties, grabbing clothing at random.

He had killed them. For her.

A faint light flickered somewhere deep within; she could see it now.

She would go there. Follow the cool, blue pinprick into the dark until it was captured in the palm of her hand. There, she would blow on it, oxygen to flame, until everything burned bright.

Marcus paused, raising an eyebrow. "You can stop that now." He chided. She was looking at him like he was some sort of saint. The thought instantly repulsed him. He was going to have to set her right.

Marcus turned towards River, giving her his full attention. "Let's get one thing straight. I'm not your knight in shining armor. This was a one deal occurrence."

"Valiancy is fleeting." River affirmed, nodding her head in understanding and keeping her smile hidden inside.

Marcus held up his chin. "Good. Now that that's out of the way, have you decided?"

Pursing her lips together, she thought a moment before pointing a delicate finger upward. "There is a castle in the sky."

Marcus smirked with approval. The girl had excellent taste.

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The piece of land the Blue Sun Corporation possessed among the Bellerophon Estates was, of course, the most expansive of them all.

Their mini island was roughly 5 miles wide and 7 miles long. The property contained 2 enormous lakes, several ponds, a small horse ranch, a patch of green forest, 5 expansive gardens, and 6 connected pools, and the mansion itself spanned over 20,000 square feet.

The villa was open and airy, Mediterranean style, with enormous open windows, balconies, numerous arches and walkways that opened up to large, airy rooms. 28, on three different levels.

They traveled by teleport this time to Bellerophon, and for 2 hours after they arrived, Marcus had to listen to the girl chatter on, trying to work out the infinite number of scientific variables it would take to explain such a phenomenon.

Well, he could have walked away. After all, they had an entire island in the sky to themselves. He'd never admit it aloud, but he found her brainy enthusiasm was somewhat infectious.

Marcus relaxed on a comfy, reclining patio chair outside a tiled balcony, which spanned from the most master of bedrooms. Sheer curtains billowed in the breeze behind him, the morning sun low on the horizon ahead.

He watched River intently, who was lying on her stomach on the ground next to him.

Ripping another sheet turned dark with mathematic equations and formulas from her pad, River tossed it aside before continuing on a fresh piece of paper.

For a brief moment, he toyed with the idea of explaining it to her, it was simple really, but decided that watching her work it out on her own was far more entertaining. He always believed that learning was best achieved through experience, diligence and a whole lot of pain and suffering.

Closing his eyes, Marcus let himself be sedated by rhythmic scratching of lead, and the cool ocean breeze that trickled in from the north.

Yes, this had been an excellent idea, he thought contentedly. Somewhere between listening to the screams of agents Stevenson and Wayneright, and his meeting with the Senior Partners, he realized that giving up the girl would make him look weak, no matter which way he spun it.

He had worked hard to get this far up on the corporate latter, and he wasn't going to let one difficult, sniveling, obnoxious little brat destroy all he had killed for. Quite literally.

It didn't matter that she was enjoying herself or that he had finally liberated her from her tumultuous confines. That she was happier then even he ever thought she was capable of becoming. He was doing this for his own sanity and enjoyment. Even the most wicked enjoyed a vacation from corruption and coercion every now and again.

"Time-space continuum solved."

Peeking one eye open, Marcus observed the piece of paper being thrust in his face and then looked up to see River smiling contentedly, the blinding morning sun haloed around her.

Opening his eyes fully, he took the paper and sat up.

River sat down next to him, propping her elbow on her knee, chin in hand, watching as Marcus took all of three seconds to verify the proof. Smiling slightly, he handed it back over. "It wasn't as complicated as you thought, now was it?

River smiled at him. "That's the trick."

Marcus held her eyes for a moment before clearing his throat and looking out over the balcony, past the fountain pools, towards the forest and beyond. "Is this what you had in mind?" Thinking of the girl's favorite pastime, he grinned a little and added, "I imagine there are enough places for you to hide."

"Have no reason to. Nothing to fear." River smiled brightly and slipped her small hand into Marcus's large one. Getting to her feet, she tried to tug him upwards. "Let's explore it. Together."

"Sorry, can't." Marcus replied with a polite frown. "There are some things I need to tend to." Reaching inside his jacket pocket, he encircled his free hand around the scroll hidden there. He wondered why he even bothered keeping it from her. Being a reader, she'd figure it out eventually.

There was that look on her face, blank and far too intimidating for a human.

"Someone needs to wait for our things." He explained further. "They will be arriving shortly. Go on, now." He withdrew his hand from his coat and patted the back of hers, arching an eyebrow in amusement. "Perhaps you can figure a mathematical equation for land suspension."

River's expression was serious as she explained it for him. "Gravity and magnetic field are a counterbalance. Manipulated to create midair floatation. Weightlessness." Letting his hand drop, her eyes held his. "It's an illusion."

"Yes, well, most things are." Marcus confessed and then watched as River disappeared through the thin, wispy drapery and into the house beyond.

---

Standing before the large vault in the library, Marcus scanned the lengthy scroll unraveled before him. Her prophecy. Her name scribed in the Latin.

The Senior Partners valued River Tam's hand in the events to come above all else. They believed her dreams to be the key to the undoing of these sad, new worlds. She was a precious investment, so to speak.

At this moment, there were others seeking her as well. For good or bad, she was wanted by many. This fact only added to the girl's increasing desirability.

It was true he still wanted her for himself, to ravage and possess, but it was more than that now. She was growing on him, her abundant flaws fading with each new day. Just being around her satisfied his craving for all that was unholy. It was a thought that should disturb him greatly.

Carefully rolling the parchment up, a binding document with time itself, Marcus slipped it back into its protective case. After entering the combination on the vault pad, he opened the heavy door and tucked it safely away.

---

The house was vast, grand on a scale River had never experienced before. Then again, everything associated with Marcus Hamilton was larger than life. Boundaries were nonexistent in his world.

Standing in the grand entranceway, she turned in a circle, looking up towards the 30 ft dome vaulted ceiling. The whole room was painted in off whites and beiges, trickles of blues, greens and gold throughout in the decor. A circular stairway wound down around the perimeter of the room. Halfway down, in the middle of the space, a large chandelier was suspended in midair.

River continued to explore the room, as she had the others, smoothing her hand over the rich furnishings, stained-glass lamps, intricate patterned vases and several enormous paintings.

An ivory carving of an elephant, reared up on its hind legs and ready for attack, caught her eye. Picking it up off the long table, she turned it over in her hands, transfixed.

Something about the piece triggered a distant memory. Taking her back years before needles and missions. Laughter echoed in her memory as a young girl ran through lavishly furnished halls. She was shrieking at the top of her lungs. Someone was chasing her… The great safari hunter.

Clutching a small carving to her chest, (an offering from the jungle gods to protect her on her journey to rid the evil from the earth) the girl ran as fast as she could, her little heart pounding with excitement, the pursuit her favorite part of the game.

The imminent sound of footsteps grew louder, thundering across the thin carpet covering the hardwood. In a whirl, her pursuer snatched her from behind, pinning her arms down at the sides. "Ah-ha, I've got you!" He triumphed. "Hand it over!"

Struggling and squirming against his hold, a look of defiance was set on her face. "No! I will not surrender!" And then she added for dramatic affect, "You will have to cut off my head!"

The evil boy-hunter tickled her sides, an infallible torture technique, causing young River to squeal in agony. Finally breaking character, the girl pleaded with her brother, "Stop, Simon, stop!"

Simon lowered his tone to make it sound menacing, like she'd taught him. "Not until you give up the key."

A commanding voice suddenly startled both children from the top of the stairs. "What is it you think you're doing?"

Simon released his sister immediately, standing at proper attention. River-girl looked into her father's intimidating eyes, and panicked, guilty for playing with the treasured family relic. The elephant slipped from her fingers, crashing hard on the surface below, where it broke apart and scattered in a dozen pieces.

River jumped, the crash echoing from past to present. Looking down at history repeated, she observed chunks of ivory as they lay still on the Italian marble.

A deep voice cut through the silence, echoing in the large room. "I have to say, you seem to have a thing for destruction."

River looked up at Marcus making his way down the stairs. "Not that I mind those tendencies. Admire them actually. But you might want to go easy on the priceless artifacts. It was the only one of a set of two left in the Universe."

River kneeled down, picking up one of the broken pieces, fragments from her past.

She looked up as Marcus approached, a question in her tone as she studied him, "There are things you find irreplaceable?"

"Some things." Marcus offered her a large hand down. "I'm finding."

TBC…


	11. Chapter 11

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CH.11: Kiss the girl

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As River lugged Marcus around the island the next morning, marveling over the very best amenities the powerful and corrupt could afford, she almost seemed a picture of normality.

Like everything, it was a ruse. A cracked girl lay dormant just beneath the surface, waiting to be set off by something arbitrary. Last night, it happened to be the way their place settings were arranged.

After initially loosing it, she had proceeded to rearrange the cutlery for over an hour, muttering to herself about things being unsystematic.

It had been a long night.

But today was a new day, and there were smiles and conversation. Everywhere they went, she insisted on his company, sometimes trying to thread her fingers through his as they walked.

Her attempts were unsuccessful. Marcus Hamilton did not hold hands.

Remaining cool and detached, he observed the girl behind a mask of indifference as she picked flowers for a wreath that she was making him; one that wasn't going anywhere near his head. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and it was enough to make him ill.

Yes, a part of him was glad he decided to keep River, but the other longed to be doing something more proactive, such as plotting, terrorizing, maiming or his personal favorite, the occasional burning at the stake. Luckily for him, those were becoming quite popular again.

For now, they were all just happy fantasies he continued to push towards the back of his mind. Something to look forward to when this was all over.

Around midday, when they ended up in the horse corral, and River started talking to the animals, going on about _little souls and big words, _he had had quite enough. He was itching to partake in something more unscrupulous than watching a crazy girl make friends with the four-legged creatures.

From the moment they entered the musky barn, the horses began to whimper and whine. They grew increasingly agitated at Marcus' presence, trotting around their stalls and snorting in an antsy panic. It was nice to be properly feared again.

The girl was currently on her tippy-toes, leaning against a wooden gate and peering into one of the stalls. As she stretched and strained to get a better look, Marcus let his gaze wash down her body, admiring the toned muscles in her calves as she rose higher. The urge to come up behind her and do wicked things gripped him.

At that moment, River turned and looked over her shoulder, right into his eyes with an expression that was neither flattered nor intimidated. She knew exactly what he thought, yet she remained impassive. He found her reluctance intriguing, enticing even.

Trying to shake the mental thoughts of Marcus' hands on her body, the force of his intentions, River turned her attention back to the horse. His mental imprints were powerful, bordering the thin line between forethought and actuality.

The horse stopped trotting and pawing at the ground, rearing its head to look its observer straight in the eyes.

"Does anyone ride them?" River pondered curiously. Her reflection was mirrored in the glassy black of the frightened animal's eyes. She remembered they had a purpose. Everyone had a purpose.

"Among other things." Marcus replied coolly, reflecting on the time or two when a client held sacrifice or had just gotten hungry. Come to think of it, he couldn't recall a time when anyone had actually used them in a way that didn't involve a mess of blood and death.

"We should go riding." River suddenly announced, blocking out the things Marcus didn't say aloud. She turned away from a quarter horse, which was becoming agitated again, bucking wildly against its stall and ramming its large frame against the metal dividers.

"Knock yourself out." Marcus suggested unconcernedly, and then added, "That's what's likely to happen if you attempt it, anyways. Some creatures cannot be pacified when threatened."

Marcus paused to remove a fleck of straw that had found its way onto his suit, smirking at fond memories of the girl when she had first arrived. "You were the wildest of them all."

"Don't like to be caged." River agreed. Her eyes flickered mischievously as she ran her fingers over the lock, unlatching and releasing the obstinate animal from its prison.

Bursting from the stall, it leaped into the air and landed, kicking up more hay as it disappeared through the entrance and into the pasture beyond.

"That one was damaged. Unfit." River explained. "Needed to feel the wind on her face before she is put down."

Marcus wondered if she was still talking about the horse.

Wandering over to the opposite side of the barn, River craned her neck back to look at the large collection of saddles and various riding gear hanging from the wall. "We should ride. It'll be fun." She suggested again. "Never know if you don't try."

"Somehow, I don't see it happening." Marcus established. He was an urbanite, not some common yokel. At least that was the manifestation that suited him best.

"You would like it." River declared with certainty, fixed on something just beyond his view.

Marcus pressed his hands together in a proper triangle. A habit that always came about when he was being haughty. "You know what I like now?"

River turned, holding out a long, sleek riding stick for him to see, and smiled deviously. "There are torture devices."

Marcus smirked as he stepped closer, impressed by the girl's train of thought. "Sadly, it's not the horse I'd want to be using it on."

The smile slid from River's face, the reality of his fantasies hitting her hard. It was another lifetime and she often forgotten about it, didn't want to remember. Couldn't.

"You like to hurt women. It excites you." This time her expression was grave, pressed with memories, hers and not.

"Enjoy hurting all kinds of people." Marcus replied straightforwardly. It was a simple fact that could not be denied.

"Perhaps if you were to feel pain." River reasoned.

"Enjoy that, too." His tone was even more wicked, like she was spurring him on, unknowingly exciting his dark predilections. As they spoke, Marcus closed the distance between them with a few easy strides, looking down at her as something to be consumed.

River wrapped her arms around herself, feeling the chill of his desire. "Don't feel it like we do. Stripped bare." River paused. "I feel everything."

Marcus lingered on her words, considering them from an abstract standpoint. But it was all in vain. It was near impossible to grasp the notion.

Stepping close, Marcus fingered the thin strap of her dress, toying with the flimsy fabric before brushing his fingers down the back of her shoulder and along the sensitive skin underneath her arm until he reached her wrist.

As a tingle of warmth and anticipation surged from Marcus' touch, River forgot the cold and leaned into his large form. Her eyes fluttered closed, sedated by his seductive spell.

Leaning down, Marcus put his face next to hers and whispered into her hair. "Do you feel that?" His voice had deepened with a lust-filled curiosity.

Her breath was shallow, poisoned by the things he was doing to her.

"It's interesting…" he continued as he traced her fingers with his own, threading his thick digits with her dainty ones, "How the tiniest gestures in just the right places…" Marcus guided her hand and placed it on his erection as he brushed his lips against her neck, "can generate such a fierce reaction."

Opening her eyes, she swallowed thickly as she felt his rigid desire pressing hard against her palm. Surging through him coursed the blood of the most ancient power, and the intensity alone was more than she could process.

"Your thoughts are mine." She whispered, the wispy tone in her voice telling him just how much she was affected. "Wicked and corrupt," She relayed. "Where I feel…" Trying to place her mind-set, separating it from his nature was difficult. They had somehow twisted together against reason.

Moving her hand up, she placed both of them on his chest where they lingered in hesitation before she pushed him away. He didn't budge.

River stood there, staring at his chest and refusing to look up. All was quiet except for the occasional blowing of an unruly mare.

"I feel more." She finally gathered, separating the light from the dark. "We do not think the same things. They clash, and it's loud, and I get confused. It's not supposed to look this way." Finally, she looked up at him, her chin quivering.

He should be mad at her for refusing him. But her eyes were doing that watery thing and he felt strangely…curious. "Tell me then. How do you see it?"

"Walk with me?" She implored. This was not the ideal place for a serious conversation.

Marcus sucked in an impatient breath. "Very well. But after that, no more games." Time and time again, he wondered why he just didn't take her as often and savagely as he wanted, why it mattered that she had a say.

The only thing he could conclude was that she intrigued him, and for the first time ever, he wanted to explore the natural progression of things, live in the moment as if it mattered in this vortex of never-ending existence.

She took his arm and they were quiet until they reached the garden where she let go and sat upon one of the stone benches underneath a shady maple tree.

Marcus looked around and observed the snow-white clematis, their petals in full bloom and the neighboring rose-colored perennials, ruffling in the breeze. "You prefer a more aesthetic setting. Is that it?"

The look River gave him spoke volumes. "I do not wish to make love to you amongst rose and vine."

The ancient demon quirked an eyebrow at her bluntness. Moving to sit next to her on the bench, he bit back, "Tell me, then. Is this where we exchange pleasantries about the weather? Or perhaps you want to tell me about your tortured past so I can pretend to sympathize."

"Don't be mad." She chastised. "I'm not interested in the weather."

As River looked up at him underneath her eyelashes, her eyes screamed innocence, and they were taunting him with their virtue. She was going to be the death of him, if the possibility existed.

"I want you." She confessed reluctantly, with a virgin's unease. "Just not…there are steps, a sequence of events." Her hair fell over her shoulder as she struggled to explain. "In order to get the girl."

Marcus struggled to understand. "I already have you. You're here, and you're mine."

"Corporeal possession does not equate the submission of will."

Marcus smirked confidently. "Will is my specialty. They bent and twist so easily. You said it yourself; you want me. Now how do you suppose that happened?"

"Saw something in you." River confessed. "Behind your blind spot. You don't know it yet, but a change is coming."

"There is very little I'm not aware of." Marcus retained smugly.

"Then you choose not to see it."

A pang of annoyance stirred somewhere deep, boiling over to the surface. "If this is what you had in mind for fun, I have to say, I'm sorely disappointed."

River was quiet as she looked down at her hands. "I thought if I could explain it to you, you'd understand. You see only one color."

Marcus sighed, eyeing the yellow strap of her dress, hanging off her shoulder. _Everything was suggestive._ He wanted her so badly he could taste it. He supposed if he was going to get anywhere, he'd have to play it her way.

"I give up. What did you have in mind?" Marcus asked politely, like they were doing business.

River picked up her head, sliding her hand up her arm and returning the fallen strap before looking into his inquiring eyes. The blue was brighter somehow, almost looked vulnerable, human. It was a lie she'd easily believe.

Her eyes fell across his face, stopping on his lips. "You can kiss me." She suggested.

"Oh, no. Not falling for that one again." Marcus smirked with amusement. "Nice try, though."

River remained stolid, her eyes penetrating. "You're afraid. Afraid you'll lose control. You don't like to feel that way because it's not in your makeup. Confuses you."

Before he could say another word, River leaned over, planting a solid kiss on his lips. She held her self there, his soft lips surprisingly pliant as she pushed forward gently, deepening the contact.

Pulling back, River smiled at the rare sight of a confounded Marcus and versed, "Now you know how that feels."

TBC…


	12. Chapter 12

Inner Demons (12/?)

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Setting the heavy brush on the dresser, River leaned in and considered her reflection, staring into deep brown eyes that answered back.

As she scrutinized the mirror-girl, pale and small, she wondered if this is what Marcus saw and if he found her appealing, or rather, if he had just grown accustomed to her looks. She had seen his usual faire, in flashes of memories when his lust was loud and blaring.

She was nothing like those women, and there had been many. It was true that he didn't always desire her, but now, he was bursting with it. It was both frightening and thrilling, knowing that there was a flurry of want just waiting to be unleashed.

Standing straight, she gathered and twisted her long hair back, fastening the bulk with a pair of dainty, flowered chopsticks. A fresh eagerness trembled in her fingers as she thought of him, boding evil contained and safe to the touch.

She couldn't explain the magnetic draw that connected her to things dark and dangerous, but there it was, seeping through the cracks of her old shell.

Over time, her feelings for the creature had slowly twisted, shaped into what would outwardly resemble a normal relationship. A closer look would reveal that none of it made any sense, just like most things swirling about in her mind.

Finished, River pulled out her clothes, something more mature, and dressed, remembering the proper order of things. Feeling pleased with the change, she smiled internally, enjoying the normalcy of the moment. Most of the time, she was busy struggling for self-control or a hold on this slippery reality in which she was held captive.

Not that she was truly caged anymore, it was different now, a lot of things were. Marcus had set her free, kept by a willing leash.

River left the room and bounded down the staircase, curious to what the day would bring. The morning sun had filled the great house full of light, making it look like a dream. Perhaps it all was.

Making her journey through the hall and into the kitchen, she passed the bustling servants, who were sweeping about in a torrent, busy with the upkeep. They came in swarms and then seemed to disappear back into the walls as if they had never been there to begin with.

As she passed through the kitchen, she grabbed a peach from a bowl on the counter and bit into it, savoring the soft, tangy-sweet flesh. Everything tasted better now. Happiness made it that way.

The entrance to the patio was open, and she could see Marcus just beyond, sitting straight and proper, reading the morning flyer at a small, outdoor table. He was suited and clean shaven as usual, a picture of meticulous perfection. Just beyond the cover of shade, the pool shone a cool blue, mirroring the crisp sky above. Further still, landmasses floated in the distance, little worlds suspended by invisible string.

An unconscious smile formed at the sight of him, her well-mannered fiend. Coming to stand next to Marcus, a sharp thrill coursed to her heart, making it pound softly in his company.

"Good morning." She chirped tenderly, eyeing the focal point of his attention.

Electronic headlines ran horizontally across the bulletin he was reading, updating every so often with new information. A capture at the top right flickered and changed every so often, accompanying the breaking news.

Marcus turned his head slightly, just barely acknowledging River's presence. Her light scent overtook his senses, instantly reminding him how much he craved it in her absence.

Ever since yesterday's encounter, he had wanted more of her. It was just a kiss, pure and chaste, but there was a surge of something more potent behind it, like the undercurrent of electricity buzzing before a storm.

She had shown him exactly how she wanted things to be, and out of curiosity he allowed her to lead. It was unnatural, this sudden appetite for idle human affection. The fact that he wanted to learn her in ways that meant restraint and patience gave him pause.

It made him want to be rebellious.

Turning his attention back to the paper, he noted dryly, "It seems one of our neighbors slaughtered his entire family in their sleep. So, I say it is an excellent morning."

River raised an eyebrow, slightly thrown by the statement, but not deterred. Leaning in over his shoulder, she scanned the page quickly and smiled when she found what she was looking for.

"A mysterious stranger saves six from burning skyplex just before it is engulfed in flames." There was an unaware righteousness in her tone as she read the words aloud.

"I see what you are doing." Marcus chided, completely aware of her nearness. God she smelled delicious, sweet and virtuous and everything else that was bad for him. Resisting temptation was not one of his strong suits.

"Hmm?" River hummed the question innocently as she took another bite of her breakfast, resting her arm casually against Marcus' broad shoulder. He noticed that too.

Setting the paper down, Marcus smirked up at River. "I can assure you, most everyone is corrupt, and for those who aren't, well, they can be _persuaded_." Calmly taking a sip of his coffee, he added, "We're well on our way to batting a 1000."

Upon finishing his cold sentiments, Marcus took a good, long look at River. She was dressed in a white, high-neck blouse, with ruffled half-sleeves and beige, form-fitting pants, altogether looking slightly less girlish. She'd even gone to the trouble of pulling that wild hair from her face. Her appearance and manner held a brand new air of confidence. It was bittersweet seeing her this way. He had grown quite fond of the broken mess of a thing.

She was looking at him softly now, more so than he deserved, and there was conviction in her voice as she refuted him. "But it exists, the goodness in people. With that, there's hope."

There was the girl again, all sixteen telling years.

"And what do you know of goodness?" Marcus questioned wryly. "I've seen your file." After all she'd been put through, he was constantly surprised she wasn't more of a cynic.

River was quiet a moment, searching within for what she knew to be true, what had to be. It was in memories of Simon, always mending the sick and broken; whether it be her doll or their grandmother when she took ill. It was the intern at the academy that slipped her books in-between doses, breaking up her tragic day with a glimmer of kindness. It was in the thoughts of strangers, not blaring, but pieces here and there that made her feel warm inside, if only for a moment.

"I feel it, bone deep and constant. Keeps me from fading away." River confessed. No longer feeling hungry, she set aside her unfinished food, and absently licked her sticky fingers clean.

Marcus watched as River ran her lips over her appendages one by one, her tongue occasionally darting out and taunting him with innuendo. Grimacing in restraint, he channeled his focus elsewhere, towards the more pleasurable torment of her.

"What if I were to take that? Completely smash what's left?" He pondered aloud. It would be so easy, and would solve this odd attachment issue he seemed to be having.

River walked slowly around the table, dipping her fingers in the metal grating, reflecting back to all the moments the creature had attempted to decimate her but ultimately failed.

It was a flicker of hesitation that had grown ever since he first put his fist through the wall, narrowly missing her head. His rage was all-consuming then, barely restrained, and now it was…confused.

Making the full circle, she was standing before him now, the confidence of her conclusion shining in her eyes. "You would feel unsatisfied. That thrill is fleeting."

All Marcus could do was glare at her. He learned long ago he couldn't prove her wrong, whether he wanted to or not. It was a bothersome technicality that came with the job.

The job. He had to constantly remind himself that she was a commodity and nothing more. Despite his wanton thoughts, this could lead nowhere pleasant, and only serve to distract him from the objective.

He had to ignore the fact that she was standing before him now, offering herself in ways no human or creature had ever dared before. This confused him the most, made him skeptical of her intentions. The world was black and white in his eyes, and her actions were made up of grays.

Watching her closely for reaction, Marcus spoke slowly, so that the words would sink in. "We have bigger plans, you know."

River remained impassive, all this she knew. Repeater.

Looking hard at the girl, he made up his mind and said it, gesturing between them. "This…whatever this is…is a fluke."

There it was, a waver in her stance, a slight hitch in breath. Her vulnerability was always exquisite.

Marcus pressed on, twisting the knife deeper with words. "When all is said and done, I will not hesitate to do what's necessary for the greater good, or _bad, _if you will." Folding his hands contentedly on his lap, he smirked coolly. "Interpret that anyway you like."

River could see the lie through the smile. He was pulling back, making himself stone again and he was going to sink them both. Her hands shook with longing, she wanted to touch him, show him what was real, but she didn't dare, for he was teetering on the edge in a bad way.

"This is not what you want." River refuted, speaking to the heart of the matter.

No, it wasn't what he wanted. What he wanted, involved less talking and complete abandonment of consciousness, but somewhere along the way using the girl for a bit if passing fun had been tossed out the window of options.

The mutual hate and respect he felt for the girl left him spun about.

Pushing back his chair, Marcus stood, towering over the small thing, his tone calm but patronizing. "Do you really think you can presume to know what I want? A little girl, barely grasping for her sanity? I bet you don't even know who you are, do you? What you're capable of."

River flinched at that, trembling in confusion. Sometimes she could feel herself splitting into two different people and it was hard to know which one she was. Maybe he was right. She never knew what she was saying.

Hot tears stung her cheeks, and she couldn't tell them to stop. Her emotions were an open book, there was nothing to contain them. She hated feeling this way, raw and exposed.

Marcus slowly reached up, as if on autopilot, and tenderly thumbed away a tear. "No, I suppose not." He answered for her affectionately. So much so, River almost believed it.

He let his thumb brush down her cheek. Her skin was so soft, he couldn't help but linger there. "Your moment will come." He continued. "Until then, we must quit these games. They're trite and useless." His thumb had absently found her lips, full and damp under his touch, beckoning him.

What the hell, he thought, and bent down to kiss her, one last time, he promised himself. He was gentle, running his tongue lightly across lips that still tasted of peaches. She was trembling, barely responsive to his prodding and he had to fight his carnal instinct to pull her close and devour her completely.

River remained stationary against Marcus' kiss. His words were saying one thing and his lips another, and it was so very cruel. Turning her face, she reluctantly broke the contact that left her feeling weak and wanting.

Taking a moment to collect herself, River looked back up into those familiar eyes, appealing to the part of him that wanted this as much as she did.

She raised her hand, wanting to pierce the armor, the cold formality of his suit and tie. Reveal what lie dormant. "You convince yourself when you're uncertain." River avowed softly. This much, she wasn't scared to call him out on. "I make you uncertain. But it's all just words. You're full of them, but they ring emptier every day."

All too suddenly, his gaze seemed unbearable and she needed to escape its impenetrable force, along with the uncharacteristic volume of his thoughts which were escalating with each passing moment. Brushing passed Marcus, River stumbled blindly towards the house, needing to lay down, but was instead caught hard by the wrist.

Marcus' strength was incapacitating as hesitated, battling differing urges_. Hold on, or let go? _No matter how he tested her, something else beckoned, something beyond any of their control. She made him forget who he was, and if he didn't remind them, he'd easily give into this other reality.

But it wasn't real. In this place, they weren't who they were.

Pulling her back to him forcefully, Marcus grabbed River's other wrist, and yanking her up by them, forcing her to balance on the tips of her toes. He glared at her, enraged, ready once and for all to trump her prying ways. He hated that she saw straight through him.

"You can't change me." He threatened, looking so far into her, she could feel her insides burn. "This is who you desire." He pointed out darkly. "You need to face that."

Knowing her fragile psyche would feel the blast of atrocity and buckle, he thought of every horrendous act he'd ever committed. There was no way she could possibly accept him as is. It would be madness, and at the moment, she seemed very much sane.

Leaning in, he whispered right next to her lips, "Can you live with that? You can't pick and choose. It's all or nothing, little girl."

River's knees bowed as waves of ugliness pounded her, a relentless storm of truth. She fought to hold on, weathering the hurt, and not for the first time, recklessly confused by the attraction. Logically, she could not drink her poison and still live.

Mustering the last bit of defiance she had left, she glared back. "Can you?"

It hit him then, his own truth catching him off guard. _He couldn't_.

Marcus released River and she stumbled back, immediately nursing her tender wrists. She didn't belong with someone like him, he would turn her black, destroy the opposing forces that had attracted them so fiercely.

He couldn't ruin her. So instead, he turned and walked away.

---

For the next several days, neither saw much of the other. Marcus steered clear, and River didn't impose, letting him have his distance.

This new-found consideration wasn't something Marcus was used to. If any of his colleagues knew he'd picked to spare the girl by choosing not to corrupt her, well, let's just say he'd be out a job.

When being in the same house became too much, Marcus started taking trips to the city, immersing himself in the work that normally filled him with a great sense of satisfaction. But staring out his large office window, the bright lights of Londinium filling his vision, he was distracted, itching for the one thing he denied himself.

Marcus looked at the clock, automatically calculating the time in Bellerophon. It was approximately 1600 hours there. He imagined that River was swimming in the pool as she often did in the golden afternoons, floating still and silent as death. Puzzled by the routine, he had asked her once what she was trying to achieve, and she had simply answered, "It's quiet."

He wanted to be with her now, hear her talk about random things, her perspective never dull. He wouldn't even mind if she teased him in that way she did. It had become almost endearing, much like everything else he originally found trying about her.

Pulling out her file for the hundredth time, Marcus read through it, trying to understand this creature who enraptured him so. Maybe if he could figure her out, she could be simplified and discarded along with the rest. There was always a way around these things.

---

Back on the island, there was a scratching sound somewhere in the distance, pulling River awake. Opening her eyes, she blinked and listened for the sound, but only heard the light blowing of the wind as she stared up at the dim ceiling.

The atmosphere felt chilly, and the light from the moon cast her room in an ethereal hue. Turning her head towards the cool air, she noticed that the blue-glow was brighter just beyond the billowing curtains.

She watched as they blew freely, rising and falling along with the gusts. It was a gentle dance that was almost hypnotizing. It suddenly came to her that there was nothing separating her from the open air and balcony beyond.

River carefully crawled from her bed to shut the glass door. Every night was like this, waking to a fierce chill because she couldn't seem to remember to lock up. As she slid the door closed, the room became still, warming instantly.

Then she heard it again. A clicking sound. It was louder this time. She tried to place it among the noises she'd grown accustomed to, the creaks of the settling house, but it belonged nowhere.

Click, click, click. It was advancing, drawing nearer. River froze in terror, unable to rationalize the noise. There was a pattern to the clicks, sets of four repeated. Then they ceased abruptly, right outside her door.

River slowly backed into the far corner of the room, a feeling of dread knotting in her stomach, causing her skin to tighten, every molecule aware. Except, she did want to know. Her back hit a hard surface and she slumped down, shutting her eyes and mind, refusing to reach out and determine the source.

The door handle rattled, jerking her back to reality. As River watched the long lever turn, she tried to shrink further into the wall, digging her heals into the ground and pushing futilely against the unmoving mass. The door creaked as it was pushed open, the sound long and drawn out, propelling her anxiety further.

"_I'm sleeping. REM. A flight of the imagination. I'm not right and this is not real_." River whispered the words internally as a hulking figure emerged from the dark hall, sniffing like something wild.

The clicking was sharp now, and River realized with horror that the sound was from its claws tapping hard against the floor as it walked. There was a smell, like something rotting, something that had died ages ago.

Then she saw it and it her, its blazing yellow eyes still and unblinking. Its skin was dark, and it was larger than a man, hunched, with clawed hands dangling at the end of abnormally long arms. One swipe from those blades would cause insurmountable damage.

A wave of nausea washed over her as it inched closer, stalking sideways as if trying to figure out the best angle in which to pounce. Her heart was pounding, blood racing and for all the times she wished she was dead, she had never wanted to live more.

A whimper escaped past her trembling lips. "_Please. Don't_."

The creature cocked its head, and she swore it grinned at her, its long, skinny teeth looking razor sharp. River swallowed thickly, _this was it_.

In a flash, it was upon her, pinning her small body to the ground. Her head smacked the floor hard, causing everything to become unfocused. As she tried to thrash, fight the useless fight, she found she couldn't move under its tremendous weight. The air had left her lungs, and she was certain she was being crushed.

A sharp pain stabbed her thigh, and she cried out, everything a blur. Its hind claw had pierced her leg, sinking in deep and hitting bone. The pain was so unbearable, she now hoped the thing would be quick, show her mercy before it devoured her whole.

Then she felt a sudden weightlessness, and for a split second imagined she was gone, it was over…until she heard the creature let out a guttural cry as it hit the opposite wall with a thunderous crash, causing the room to shudder violently.

River scampered up blindly, straining through the haze. The room was dim, and her vision swirled. But there it was, the familiar outline of Marcus, squaring off with the thing that had already risen to full height.

It shrunk back defensively, crouching to all fours, and snarled viciously at Marcus who stood impassive, simply waiting, a game. The thing grew easily impatient and leapt up. Marcus raised his arm, batting it down with the back of his fist in one swift motion.

Hitting the floor with a bone crunching sound, it faltered a moment before scrambling up and striking again. This time, its face connected with the end of Marcus' foot as he lashed out, its teeth shattering as its head snapped back. Blood oozed everywhere, making the insistent thing slip on its own fluids.

Marcus reached down, grabbing the creature by the neck. It flailed, shredding the arm it was held by with its razor sharp claws. But Marcus flinched not.

He said something to it in a language River didn't understand, and then dropped the damaged thing to the ground where it scampered off like a dog, running out of the room and leaving behind a thick trail of blood.

Marcus shot River a look, and then turned, leaving her behind to follow the creature.

Trying to stand on shaky legs, River used the wall for support, wavering a moment before moving forward. The pain in her injured leg was an afterthought as she followed the slippery trail. Then slowly, the feeling began to return, every step causing her to wince in agony as she trekked through the large house, down the hall, up some stairs and through another corridor until she reached a circular room.

Marcus was standing across the room with his back towards her, facing an open door and looking down at something just beyond. Instantly, River knew that this was all her fault. Her heart stuttered faster with a mixture of guilt, fear and apprehension.

Wind screamed out the narrow opening, blowing a torrent of icy air into the room. River's hair whipped around her, her scant nightgown plastered to her flesh by the velocity as she stepped closer, peering down into the black cavern situated impossibly in the middle of the mansion; through the very door that she had opened hours before.

Slamming the entry shut, Marcus muttered something and turned to face River, his eyes shouting at her before his words could. How could she do something so stupid? Opening a portal to another dimension, one that happened to be filled with carnivorous demons. She was lucky only one had found the opening. These types usually traveled in packs.

As Marcus looked River up and down, taking in her tattered gown, the blood streaking down her leg, he had never felt so furious. She had been inches away from death. If he hadn't come when he did… _if he hadn't been missing her_, _he corrected, _everything would have been lost.

River opened her mouth to speak, to apologize, but found she couldn't. The room was spinning faster and faster and there was a distant high-pitched laughter that grew more shrill. Marcus faded in and out as River wavered, as she desperately tried to focus on him, fight the thing that was sucking her back inside herself, but there was no strength left, and in an instant, everything went black.

----

When River woke next, it took her a moment to place herself. She was in a large bed, soft and lavish, not her own. Struggling to sit up, she still felt woozy and drained. The arms she pushed herself up with bowed against the effort, but she managed, plopping back against the pillows and headboard, breathing heavily from the effort.

It was quiet and still very dark, but she could feel she wasn't alone. His presence was always grand whether he was asleep or not. Turning her head to the right, she found that Marcus was in fact slumbering, lying flat on his back next to her, bare down to where the sheet came up to his navel.

He was so still, it was unnerving.

The image of that thing lingered in her recent memory, but at least the stench was gone and she felt clean. River lifted a hand to her hair, the locks still slightly damp, and realized he must have bathed her during her sleep. Looking down, she found she had been redressed in a nightgown, one not shredded and drenched in blood.

Moving her right leg, River grimaced. The ache was dull and raw as she heaved it up, the sheet falling away. She pulled back the silky material of her nightdress to reveal a large bandage covering her injury. Lightly, she ran her fingers over the thick layers which covered a good part of her thigh, noticing a faint outline of red seeping through. He had done this too. Fixed her up and put her back together again.

Looking back over to the large form next to her, River was filled with a sense of warmth, and despite everything or maybe because of it, she couldn't help but love him.

Scooting the short distance, River ignored the pain and sunk down into Marcus arms, where she carefully fit her body alongside of his, nestling her head onto his chest. She felt him stir beneath her, so she held on, anchoring herself to his strength, never wanting to let go.

Tensing as she curled her fingers into his side, River waited for him to chuck her, reject her as he had weeks before. She knew he was awake, he always slept light, and she hoped against all hope to remain in his arms.

Marcus shifted and placed his large hand on the small of River's back, where it lingered heavily before he smoothed it up over the silken material to the naked skin just below her shoulders. As he touched her, slow and deliberate, River had to remember to breathe.

Then he pulled her closer, caging her to him, his strength encompassing and the heat from his body sedating. A flood of relief washed over River, and she buried her face in Marcus' skin, euphoric at finally having her affections reciprocated. Tears pricked out of the corners of her eyes, excess from the uncontained emotions she felt.

"I'm sorry." River mumbled against him. She could taste her own salty tears as she pressed her lips against his skin, kissing him softly.

Marcus raised his other had to River's hair, stroking it softly, and holding her as close as possible without crushing her. "Just Sleep." He encouraged, reveling in how good their bodies felt together. He could feel her heart beating, fluttering and small but steady, and he supposed that was the way he preferred it.

TBC…

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	13. Chapter 13

CH 13: The Devil is in the Details

A/N: Takes place right after Inner Demons part's one and two. Hopefully this is as much fun to read as it was to write. eg

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Dawn broke across the vast room, causing Marcus to stir first, severing him from the nothing he dreamed of. His arms were unnaturally full, skin against skin with masses of dark hair tangled about his throat. The girl had relaxed her grip during the night, but only because he had instinctively tightened his.

Her breath was shallow and unassuming against his chest. There were no whimpers or fits of terror, just deep, peaceful sleep. If he had had rules, this moment would never have come to pass. But even so, a distant part of him was aware of the betrayal to his former self, the one who didn't hold girls during the night without the added benefit of a good thrust… or several.

Before he could begin to think on how to rectify the situation, River stirred, slowly propping herself up with one hand, and pressing the other to her pounding head. She had been tossed about quite brutally the night before and was feeling the aftereffects.

There was a dull ache in her leg from where claws had gauged deep, and her current position, beside a partially clothed Marcus, left her feeling a little nonplused. Last night was the closest he had ever let her get.

"Sleep well?" Marcus queried simply as he sat up and leaned back against the headboard, resting his folded hands across his stomach.

River peered out from under her hand at him, the staunch smell of blood and death lingering. "I dreamt of frogs raining from the sky." She answered calmly, curious as to why she felt so composed. This was the first time she'd slept through a candid nightmare without waking in a disoriented panic.

Twiddling his thumbs, Marcus cracked a wry smile. "We do have that scheduled in the distant future," he affirmed almost wistfully. It was nice to have confirmation of these things.

Long hair fell across Marcus' chest as River leaned her head to the side, trying to get past the pull of gravity and into the abyss. "Your sleep is dark." She noted, consciously moving the conversation away from that of plague and devastation. "But you're curious." She plucked. "Want to know what it's like to dream."

Holding her eyes for a moment, Marcus said nothing to either confirm or deny her assertion. There really was no point anymore; refutation was wasted in her company. She knew him, reader or not.

"It's overrated." River offered bluntly, a far away longing captured in her eyes as she stared through and past him. "Wish I could be blank. Live in the darkness and feel nothing." Returning her sorrowful browns to Marcus, she braved the truth. "Sometimes when I'm with you, I'm allowed that."

As Marcus stared back, he found it intriguing how he could offer her so much without even really trying. With detached affection, he lifted his hand to her cheek, touching her as a lover would. "Careful, River," he warned, the value of her soft skin under his own slowly registering. "You're walking a dangerous line. There is no comfort in what I am. You and I both know this."

As Marcus continued to caress her, he found his ever-present need to protect the girl from himself interesting. It was a conflict of interests, wanting her, and wanting her unsullied. He no longer wished to turn her. It would ruin the extraordinary balance between them.

River nodded against his palm obediently. Deep down she knew their kinds were never meant to co-exist. Yet somehow, his hand no longer felt like an object, hard and impersonal against her skin. "But you came back." She pointed out. "I waited and you came back."

Moving his fingers down River's cheek, Marcus ignored truth and grabbed a hold of her chin, turning her face from side to side to check for any swelling. The thought of what would have happened had he not returned left him feeling rather hollow. Well, more hollow than usual. He was relieved she was alive and here with him now. Another thing to add to the growing list of Marcus firsts.

Finding her unblemished, Marcus schooled her lightly before letting go. "Thinking of setting any monsters loose today?"

River smiled slightly, his tone was neutral, and she knew he wasn't mad at her anymore.

"Just the one." She taunted, placing her hand on his chest for emphasis. Just beneath, she could feel the wild thing caged, dressed in human form and verb. "There's no containing him."

Marcus smiled back, amused by her flirtation. "No, I imagine not." Glancing down at her hand and then over to the clock on the nightstand, he noticed that the morning was passing them by. "Do you think you can walk?" He encouraged. "Can't spend all day in bed."

As he said it, his mind naturally went to that place, his eyes dissecting her with a new sharpness. After all, it was easy with the girl in such vulnerable proximity, hair messed and eyes naturally wild. To say he was tempted was an understatement.

The air changed as Marcus' thoughts injected River, abrupt and forceful, causing a red warmth to flood her cheeks. She was still unaccustomed to being noticed in that way, a real girl with working parts. There was all this energy, palpable and swelling with nothing to contain it.

Averting her eyes, River focused instead on testing her leg, bringing it up slightly to an angle. "It hurts." She observed thickly, alluding to more than the obvious.

"Well, let's have a look then." Marcus gestured coolly, looking to distract himself from wicked compulsion. She looked so very appetizing all heated and flustered.

Nodding, River scooted closer and carefully positioned her legs across Marcus' lap so he could have better access. The feel of him pressed hard through the thin material of his boxers caused the knot in the pit of her stomach to tighten. She knew what that meant, what he wanted.

Breath unconsciously bated, an anticipatory silence hung in the air, doing nothing to mask one body's reaction to the other. She watched as Marcus' large hand slid up her leg to unfasten the clip, and followed the rhythmic motion of layer upon layer of gauze being peeled away. Every time his thick fingers brushed the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, her body tensed, shocked by the thrill of hands so close to where she ached.

As he worked, her eyes followed the linear path up his bare arms, stopping to appreciate the flex of muscle beneath freckled skin. The circumference of them alone was a curious thing, and she loved to be fascinated, enthralled by the details uncovered in proximity.

Once unwrapped, Marcus took in the deep gash, calculating its severity. First he pressed at the sides, probing, and then ran a finger lightly over the raw, jagged line.

There was a stinging, like fire, which caused River to suck in a sharp breath and automatically jerk her leg open and away from his touch.

As silk rode up, Marcus couldn't help but silently admire the new view left to him. She really was such a beautiful creature. Smirking, Marcus met River's eyes, and announced his prognosis. "I believe you'll live."

Fighting the urge to return his gaze and thoughts to the apex of the girl's thighs, Marcus reached for the bandages instead. It wasn't often he deprived himself of what he most wanted. Only around her, for her, it seemed.

Before he could start redressing her wound, a small hand closed around his, firm and decided.

Looking up, Marcus met determined eyes as River moved his hand back high on her leg, encouraging further exploration.

"I know what you want." She avowed, leaving her hand atop of his. "Pretend to be, but you're not a gentleman." When Marcus didn't look swayed, River added with certainty, "I'm ready."

Marcus sighed, but didn't pull back. He was tired of self-restraint, of the internal conflict she brought about. How was it that he ended up the moral conscience of the two?

Changing positions, River straddled Marcus, draping her arms over his shoulders and losing her hands in his short hair. Marcus allowed her tentative caress to sedate him, but only for a moment. Giving up total control was an audacious move, it left one susceptible to all things human.

"This will only end badly." He half-heartedly warned, knowing they were way past the turning point.

"I know." River answered truthfully, giving him sad smile as she tugged distractedly on small curls at the nape of his neck.

"You've seen it, then?" Marcus probed, vaguely curious of their outcome. After all, nothing lasted forever, even a decent sized apocalypse. These people had found a way out of dystopia, moved on and rebuilt anew. That's why it was so important for them to stay ten steps ahead of the game.

River looked away as tears began to well in her eyes; she was terrified of the pain yet to come, of the everything it would take. "Your concerns are well advised." She admitted, fighting back emotion.

Marcus remained indifferent, yet intrigued. "And you still want this? Knowing what you know?" The girl really was a true sadist.

Staring quietly at him a moment, River answered the only way she knew how, by seeking his kiss, enveloping herself in the cold truth.

Marcus didn't fight it, and as he responded, the bitter ice melted into a torrent. She welcomed the arctic rush, allowed it to turn her into lead. She desperately wanted to be swept away and pushed far beneath the churning waters.

As their lips separated, River's voice sounded tragic, but sure. "I wouldn't change a thing."

A twinge of something stirred deep at her words, something warm and not entirely unpleasant. Marcus had never known anyone to willingly enter their doom, especially not for him. "Can I ask why?" He implored, unable to get past the selflessness of her affection.

River shrugged, keeping the poems he wouldn't understand locked away. She wondered if he could ever know love, feel it in his bones the way she did. In the end, she supposed it didn't matter.

Tickling her fingers lightly down his chest, tempting the animal within, she answered, "The journey isn't sobad."

Kissing his face and neck cautiously at first, then more determinedly, she pleaded further, "Take me there?"

Marcus remembered their conversation in the garden not long ago, her order of things. "Thought you wanted to take things slow?" he toyed, enjoying her virginal seduction.

River leaned back and bit her lip. "Yes, slow. Go slow."

Hmmm, slow. The idea almost seemed foreign to Marcus. He supposed she'd want him to be gentle as well? Pondering that, he decided he could view at it as a challenge, the practice of restraint. And as Marcus took in her expression, the way she nibbled shyly on her bottom lip, it was one he was suddenly eager to explore.

Reaching for the hem of her gown, Marcus slowly peeled it up, taking it over River's raised arms and tossing it over the side of the bed. Placing his large hands on her hips, he let his eyes wash over her form, which was fully illuminated by the breaking day. Everything about her was fresh, soft curves coming into their own, tender skin beckoning.

"You might have to tie me up." Marcus practically growled as he slid his hand up to touch her, enjoying the look of utter pleasure impressed upon her face as she fluttered her eyes closed.

A light hum echoed in River's mind as the strength of Marcus' hands slid across her body, grounding her and turning porcelain skin to flesh. Then there were lips kissing in places foreign, his treatment slow and excruciating, making everything on her body both sing and hurt for more.

Marcus carefully reversed their positions, turning her gently on her stomach. His hands never left her as he swept her long hair away from her neck. Lowering his body slightly above hers, he placed slow kisses across shoulders and down her back, enjoying the sweet taste of youth and innocence.

Every touch of his lips sent an anticipatory shiver down River's spine. She couldn't see him, but the imposing energy at her back thrilled her to the core.

Marcus worked his way down her body, kneading and nibbling nubile flesh as he went, paying special attention to her backside and the spots behind her knees and ankles. When he was finished, he moved back up and attacked her neck with equal voracity.

Thoughts of the girl's fragile mortality gripped him as his lips met her pulse. The fact that he was no longer tempted to still the blood flowing just beneath, reminded him of how far he'd truly come.

He could feel her shudder as he hit all the right places, and it felt powerful, giving her exactly what she asked for. Speaking low into her ear, breath hot and heavy, he asked, "Is this slow enough for you?"

Smiling into the sheets, River struggled to recover her senses. "Yes." She panted breathlessly and turned her head, claiming Marcus' lips. She kissed him unabashedly, trying to convey her appreciation. He had tamed the beast just for her.

Resting his lower-half against River's, Marcus pressed himself firmly to her bottom as he continued to kiss her, leisurely emulating the motion his body craved. Hard and steady he moved, the yearning to be buried deep inside her dominating his thoughts.

Reaching down, Marcus easily removed his boxers and the panties impeding the contact of skin against skin. Moving his hand down her body, it molded to her curves as she arched in grace, he found her front and slipped a thick finger through her curls. She was slick and willing and he had to fight the desperate urge to open her and plunge deep, to take what was his.

River could feel him slide between and against her wetness, thrusting with patience as he awaited permission to join her. Excitement mixed with apprehension as she remembered and realized the impossibility of his size, the inhuman rigidness and the power behind it. She wanted to be invaded, stretched and taken, but found it hard to hope that she could enjoy any of it.

Turning over, River looked up into eyes, dark blue with lust, and reached up to trace lines contorted in agony. "Tell me it won't hurt."

"Are you afraid?" Marcus asked in a strained tone. To say that the notion didn't still play on his dark predilections would be a lie. Fear was the ultimate aphrodisiac.

"No." River admitted unfalteringly. Smoothing her hand over his shoulder and down the hard bulk of ancient strength, River grabbed Marcus' hand and flattened her own small palm against his.

Comparing size and fit, she threaded her fingers through his and confessed, "I want to feel what you feel."

Pinning their joined hands above River's head, and firmly against the mattress, Marcus moved himself against her entrance. He felt her tense, her small body bracing for pain, so he offered her this, knowing what she was capable of. "Come outside yourself, River. Come inside. I promise I'll be good."

River trembled at the notion. Up until now, she'd only peeked, safe on the banks where it was dry and bright. Stay too long and they found you. They pull you under and sink you beneath the rotting weight of despair.

But he promised, so she surrendered and fluttered her eyes closed, drifting into his thoughts and under his skin. The body she left behind was numb, and all she could feel was a suppressed longing more powerful than anything she'd ever known.

All at once, it was warm, tight and wet, the pressure intense and excruciating. It was surreal, experiencing everything backwards. A strong moan fell from her lips as Marcus pushed deeper, fighting and enjoying the resistance, breaking down taunt walls.

Marcus' thoughts were messy and sporadic, meshed with hers, but separate. There were no dark intentions, all atrocity locked neatly behind a solid door. Only the enjoyment of each thrust could be felt, pleasure gripping and radiating deep.

She saw herself as he saw her, beneath him like a coveted thing, a creature beautiful and unique in this common place. Opening her eyes, River drifted back into herself, no longer afraid to be the person he desired and of the hurt it'd bring. As their bodies met, long and deep, the hands stretched above her head tightened and released in synchrony.

Marcus made sounds too, low and deep against her ear. The scent of her hair combined with the intoxicating smell of sex spurred him on. His faced grimaced and contorted, wrapped in a good ache as he drove deep, the need to fill her growing like a flurry. It was torturous holding back, not using his full strength, but then again, he'd always been one for pain.

As River moaned his name, her small hands dug into the muscles of his back, struggling both to get closer and to hold on. She was full to bursting, aching for release. There were things she wanted to say, deviant confessions, but the words were lost and buried in the heaviness of pleasure.

Marcus kissed River's lips hard as he neared the brink, finally accepting the heightened sense their intimacy brought about. Holding to the unbearable pace, he marveled at how ramped his desire was. It had replaced his normal cool and calculated demeanor with something more uninhibited. This new freedom was like waking up eternal, and selfishly, he already desired more.

"How does this end?" Marcus inquired heavily, practically crushing his body to hers, he was suddenly more curious than ever about the end game. He couldn't give her up, not now. Screw prophecy and the grand scheme of things, she was his for as long as he could keep her.

The sound of his voice and the possessiveness in his thoughts were enough to set River free, clinging tight, she smothered her moans in his neck, shuddering uncontrollably as wave after wave tore through her small frame.

Marcus soon followed, thrusting one last time as everything tightened and burst, flooding her and leaving him drifting on a euphoric high, the feeling more gratifying than crushing the life from some poor soul.

Settling himself fully upon River, a feeling of contentment washed over him for the first time in ages; everything had changed. "Well?' He pushed, catching his breath and eager to know if he could fix fate.

River hugged Marcus tighter as she stared wide-eyed at the ceiling above them. Her voice was distant and small when she finally answered, so much so Marcus could barely discern her words.

"I kill you." River confessed mournfully, a new emptiness threatening to swallow her whole. "I kill you."

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TBC…


	14. Chapter 14

Title: No Rest for the Wicked

Timeline: Time elapse, 2 weeks following Ch. 13 "The Devil is in the Details".

A/N: Sorry it took so long. I really had to reevaluate what being in a relationship with someone evil would entail. Anyways, a few of you wondered how Marcus would react to the revelation that River was going to kill him in the end. This is my take.

The Skyplex was a mishmash of communal mayhem, a traveling circus frozen in space.

Travelers from far and wide swarmed the place, bartering, selling, buying and buying some more. Everyone desperate to make some coin or spend some. It was a blessed union for those far from civilization.

There were carts, stands and makeshift shops for every need or whim. Plush velvets and silks hung in massive rows, flaunting their rich colors and patterns to every passerby.

A stock pile of guns and ammo laid spread out on a large table, their dangerous gleam a promising investment to those with pockets heavy enough for trade. A mixture of aromas hung in the air as foods sizzled in their woks, the crackling sound beckoning to the hungry.

Wandering through the crowds, River felt her skin tingle with excitement. Everything buzzed with energy and life. It had been so long since she had been surrounded by people, actual and whole. Not doctors and politicians with their deadened eyes and scalpels. Not demons and vampires who continued to haunt her fragmented her reality.

Then there was he at her side, a monster but not, a something that wanted to be, only he didn't know it yet, couldn't.

River snuck a glance at Marcus, cool and smooth as ever and paying mind to nothing but her; an observer living through her reactions. A small smile formed on her lips and suddenly she wanted to show him everything…if she could just remember how to be a girl in this world.

"See anything you like?" Marcus offered, catching a hint of something mischievous in River's expression.

River's smile widened, her insides warm and clinched. There was nothing she wanted for, and she imagined that was the perfect place to be.

"You're taking a risk." She observed as they walked, her hands dancing over everything in their path but never touching. _No touching. _

Walking by a stand selling bobble-headed geisha dolls, Marcus quirked an eyebrow. "Purchasing anything here comes with its risks."

"They're going to find us." River clarified as she stopped suddenly at a cart and eyed an array of sphere-like delectables. She felt a presence, familiar but not, yet at the same time felt safe under Marcus' shadow.

"Nonsense." Marcus countered calmly as he handed a bill over to the vendor, who unhooked a treat and supplied it to River. "That's why we came to this out-of-the-way place. To avoid detection."

Looking around, Marcus winced at the loud display around him. "I would have preferred to take you somewhere…a little less kitschy."

As Marcus spoke, River sniffed the thing on the end of her little fishing pole curiously. The ice bumped the tip of her nose and swung away. Trying again, she attempted to lick the treat, but it bounced away again, evermore elusive.

Turning back to River, Marcus watched with amusement as the girl struggled; her pouty, little mouth fervently working for more than a second worth of refreshment.

River wrinkled up her nose and frowned at the thing. "My food is troublesome." She concluded with a hit of disappointment.

A wry smile formed on Marcus' lips. "So this is who the fates have sent us, a girl who can't even figure out how to eat an ice-planet?" Moving behind River, Marcus placed one hand on her waist while running the other along the underside of her arm, lifting it higher.

"Tilt your head back." He instructed as he helped her guide the sphere just above her lips. "You can't force it."

Leaning back against Marcus' crisp suit, River's lips kissed the cool treat and held steady as a trickle of cool liquid quenched her thirst. It tasted of fruit and childhood, of simplicity.

Marcus smiled wickedly as he watched her drink, the innocent act looking decidedly sexy.

Tightening his grip on her waist, Marcus leaned into the clean sent of River's hair, desire thick in tone and suggestion. "We don't have to stay." He proposed, secretly wishing away the masses that surrounded them. Ordinarily he wouldn't mind an audience, but she might.

River shivered as Marcus' words sunk in and lit her skin on fire. He was insatiable. Turning in his arms, she peered up at him with amusement and then contemplation.

Raising to the tips of her toes, she planted an affectionate kiss on his cheek. "This was your idea." She reminded, and then returned to her heels "Atonement."

Smiling chivalrously, Marcus set a heavy hand on her lower back, pushing her along. "Yes, well, we'd better make the most of it."

Whispering explanation in River's ear, Marcus quietly excused himself from the palm reader's tent, smiling to himself as the girl continued to question the old woman's validity.

Something about the absurdness of one's molecular structure foretelling love and mortality. Marcus wondered if River just hadn't liked the gypsy's answer.

Raising his arm, Marcus checked his wristwatch, waited patiently until the minute-hand ticked to the hour, and then lifted his head to scan the crowd. It was important that this be done right, which from experience, meant he had to be there in the flesh.

River need not know there were ulterior motives for their coming here. Not when she looked so happy. It would be a genuine shame to ruin that now.

Watching from across the way, Marcus' eyes filled with a satisfied gleam as the job was done to his satisfaction. He did so love when things fell neatly into place.

It was late when they returned home. With a wave of his hand, Marcus stepped from one floating address to the next, guiding the tired thing back to into the quiet of their dark bedroom.

_Their bedroom. _It had been that way for two weeks now, ever since she'd stop sleeping in her own. Since the demon. Since she'd let him in.

The things they would do to one another rebelled against both of their very natures, compromise being key. You wouldn't think it to look at her, but the small thing was a phenomenal lover.

Perhaps it was her persistent devotion? After all, is wasn't everyday a creature gave him their all, not willingly anyways. He'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy owning every exquisite inch of her.

Sitting River on the side of the bed, Marcus shook her a little to get her to wake up fully, hoping to tempt her into some late night fun. Stepping back, he watched as she wavered and fell onto her side, curling into the blankets and mumbling something about cow fetuses in jars.

Well, there was always the morning. After all, it had been an extremely eventful day, and because of that, he was quite sated. Orchestrating the malevolent was the air he lived and breathed by.

Smiling in the dark, Marcus loosened his tie and peeled the clothing from his body, eager to pull River's warm one against his under the covers. She always fit perfectly against him, and it was hard to image that before her, he'd preferred to sleep alone

Crawling up the bed, he wrapped his large form around her small one, remaining propped up on one elbow so he could appreciate her. A thick curtain of hair obscured her face, so he brushed it back and tucked it neatly behind her ear.

It was a pity that this wouldn't last long, he thought idly as he traced the delicate line of her jaw, admiring every detail as she slept. He had very much wanted to keep River Tam, but it would be foolish now that he knew the truth.

From day one the girl had slowly crawled under his skin, infecting him with her humanity. He had come so close to slipping, flirting with the idea of going against the very thing that made him, but at the end of the day, she was still crazy and he was ultimately evil.

Marcus didn't blame her for trying. In fact, he was glad she did. Who said he couldn't have the best of both worlds? For a little while at least.

It was a simple, fundamental rule that had helped him finally see things for what they were, one he'd always held to; never let them kill you first.

River stabbed at her breakfast with her fork, muttering bitterly under her breath. Something wasn't right, something was always not right. He was being _it_ again.

In sharp contrast, Marcus sat to the left of her, at the head of the long table looking and delighted. "We did your thing last night." He continued to argue, happily spooning in a mouthful of eggs and swallowing promptly. "It's only a simple sacrifice, River. Besides, these things never last long, we'll be back in time to do whatever it is you might want to do. Snuggle, sip hot cocoa…" He suggested patronizingly.

River stuck her fork firmly in the slice of ham on her plate and returned her hands to her lap, refusing to look at him.

A triumphant smirk smeared Marcus' face as he watched the girl silently concede. "It's settled, then. We'll have a lovely time, I promise."

Setting his forearms on the table, Marcus leaned forward, reveling in her anger, and kissed her cheek softly. "Let's go up stairs." He suggested in a low voice. "We have the day to waste."

The heat of his breath on her face was nothing compared to the fire that burned through her body at his words, at his blatant insinuation. Closing her eyes, River took in a deep breath, fighting his hold. It had been weeks since he had tested her, and foolishly, she thought that perhaps…no she interrupted firmly, _you knew_.

Standing gracefully, River turned from the table and away from Marcus without so much a glance. The last thing she needed was his wicked hands molding her compliant, making her do things, causing her to forget that the line remained constantly blurred.

She got about a step before his hand encircled firmly around her wrist. "Or right here will do." He affirmed mercilessly, pulling her to him. Standing at full height, he towered over her, a force to be reckoned with.

Staring numbly at Marcus' tie, plum today, River's voice was deadened. "I won't enjoy it."

Backing her up against the table, Marcus reached around and cleared the surface in one swipe, plates and food crashing first against the wall and then to the floor.

Lifting her up onto the table effortlessly, he wrapped her long legs around him, and unzipped. Tilting her chin up, he simply moved the fabric of her panties aside as he slowly pushed in, needing to see her face, watch the defiance melt away as he took her.

"Yes, you will." He bolstered confidently, the taut resistance of her heat just as delightfully stubborn at the girl herself.

It was just before dusk as they arrived on an island similar to their own. The place was quickly crowding with all sorts, everything from the new Fell Brethren to corrupt higher ups from the alliance core. To them, an event such as this was the equivalent of the opera for humans. Their thirst for blood and death and the chance to rub elbows with the most affluent evil in the 'verse was just too good an opportunity to pass up.

Marcus nodded and smiled at the passing guests as he held firmly to River's arm, an air of aloofness carrying each stride as he pulled the girl along.

Dressed to the nines in a long, delicate flowing dress, River half clung, half fought Marcus' clutch. Her gaze lingered on each horrific face they passed, too many to calculate within reason. Her nightmares had officially bled over into actuality.

An excited murmur buzzed through the masses gathering in the courtyard, the eerie sound drifting up into the warm, purpling sky as they walked down several candlelit steps.

Just down the way, a familiar voice shouted at them from within a group of fury demons, their jaws snapping and salivating as they spoke in foreign tongue. Culverton's thick head of blonde hair appeared from around the bunch, waving his hand eagerly at them. "Hamilton! You made it!" He exclaimed excitedly.

The temporary head of the Londinium office made his way over, lifting his hands up as he squeezed past the creatures, trying to avoid the yellow slime that dripped from their backs.

River shivered as her eyes jerked from one horrific sight to the next, overwhelmed by the sheer volume. The thin link to her sanity was quickly slipping away as the hungry, anticipatory buzz grew more frenzied.

Stopping short of the couple, Culverton appraised them, "Well of course you did." He reasoned. "This is your gala, isn't it Marcus? Splendid turn out, by the way."

Twitching in surprise, River looked up at Marcus who simply smiled down at her without explanation.

"River, it's delightful to see you again." Culverton offered, taking her hand and bowing slightly as he kissed it. "I hear you've been keeping Marky here quite occupied." He spilled with a wink.

Pulling her hand away, River's mind went frantic, not knowing whom to address. She couldn't read either of them. Not here. It was too loud.

"We're simply guests of honor, River." Marcus reassured, noticing the girl's eyes grow wide. Gesturing to the growing crowd, he imparted graciously, "All these fine creatures came just for you. In support, that is."

Patting her hand like there we're casual strangers, his expression was painfully gleeful. "Of course, we'll be closest to the action. You especially, River. We have front row seats." He concluded delightfully.

River didn't understand, was she the sacrifice? And if he had planned to kill her all along, why now? Why wait? Then it hit her, the full force of his cruelty stealing the air from her lungs, showing her just how severely her heart could ache.

Without deception, he had succeeded in making her love him as is, of her own free will. It would have been too easy to destroy her in the beginning. There hadn't been anything to take away then.

River looked up at Marcus, numbly studying his face, the beautiful mask that hid so much ugliness. Even now she wanted to believe it, she wanted to kiss him and take him away from this place. Make it like it was before, when he had wanted to know their end.

Eyes widening in realization, the whole of it hit her. This was simply her fate in exchange for his, self-preservation trumping love and lust and all the wonderful things that could have been.

Marcus watched the flicker of realization set in on the girl's face. Lifting his hand to her dark hair, he smoothed it absentmindedly between his fingers. Even now, he couldn't get over how beautiful she was. If he had been capable of love, she would have been it. "You do understand this is not personal, don't you?" He asked softly.

River flinched at his touch, how could it be so real and false at the same time?

"This is how it has to be." Marcus concluded unapologetically as he leaned in and placed his lips on River's, kissing her deeply. As always, his mouth was warm and convincing, impossible to refuse. Parting her lips, River closed her eyes and allowed herself to pretend one last time.

When Marcus pulled away, River choked back the emotion and fear that threatened to swallow her whole. This was it, the end of nothing and she knew what she had to do. She needed to take this moment from him, and the only way to do that was to make this her choice.

"Do it." River braved, holding her wrists up to him, using every ounce of strength she possessed not to cry. She was tired of crying. Holding up her chin, she was resolute. "There's nothing left you can take from me."

Placing his heavy hands on River's, Marcus lowered them, almost chuckling. "Don't be silly. I'm not going to kill _you_."

Culverton grabbed a glass of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter and snorted before taking a drink. "The girl still doesn't know her place in the grand scheme of things, eh, Marcus? I take it back; you _are_ good." He complimented, before knocking back the entire glass of bubbly.

A thunderous commotion erupted from the opposite end of the crowd, causing River to forget the moment. Rising to her toes, she squinted as she tried to make out whom or what was being lead to the large slab of concrete at the front.

An invisible hand propelled her forward. There was something familiar in the shadowy outline, something warm and impossible to conceive.

Before she knew it, her feet were moving of their own accord, seeking out what she already knew. Hurrying down the rest of the steps, she blindly tried to push through the impenetrable mass, not caring whom or what she may be touching.

Marcus appeared behind River and calmly commanded that they make way, and suddenly a narrow path appeared. A cold hatred pressed in all around her as she ran through the gap and up the adjacent steps, up to where they were chaining him down.

Everything inside her broke as she saw his face, her voice quivering with a flood of emotion as she dropped down by his side, his blue eyes piercing hers as she stroked his face lovingly, franticly.

"Simon" She whispered, her voice breaking tragically. Her hands continued to move over his smooth skin, saying what words could not.

"River." Simon answered, trembling, wanting to reach up and touch her, to know that she was real. But they were binding his wrists and ankles, stretching his limbs cruelly.

Walking calmly up the steps, Marcus looked down at the scene coolly.

River could feel him behind her, the heat of her betrayer at her back, her Judas. Still clutching to Simon, she turned looked up at him with unsteady eyes, knowing from this moment forward, she'd never be able to see him as anything but a monster.

Marcus nodded at the minions as they stepped away from the platform and moved to the lever that would crank it upright. Returning his frozen gaze to River's, he clasped his hands together enthusiastically.

"Surprise." He offered cheerfully, as if this were the best day ever. "I hope you like what I brought you, River. I had wanted to do something truly special for your birthday, you see."

Then his expression darkened dramatically, his steely eyes returning to their former glory. "Something you'd never forget."

TBC…


	15. Chapter 15

Title: Triggered

Timeline: Continued from immediately from "No Rest for The Wicked."

A/N: This, by far, was the hardest chapter to write! There were many edits.

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Marcus moved towards the siblings with wicked grace, each step purposely calculating as he presented River her gift. Inside though, he was struggling to suppress the curl of his lip as he watched the display of sentiment before him, how the girl clung to her brother, seemingly out of love rather than fear.

Glancing briefly at Simon, jealousy unwittingly crawled into every nerve ending, making it difficult for him to remain impassive, to play this game in his normal manner.

He had anticipated all of it; the shock, heartache and predictable dedication. Only, for the first time in his existence, he didn't particularly enjoy being on the outside and looking in, feeling a reluctant stranger to humanity.

It was true that River had been his, but never in the way he witnessed now. That fact churned the darkness in his heart, causing a sharp loathing to replace his practiced indifference. A dark, gray electricity gleamed in his eyes as he looked on.

River gripped her brother's hand fiercely. There were no words, only emotions tangled and choked about in her throat as Marcus' merciless blue eyes entrapped hers. She was stuck there, frozen by circumstance.

"I don't understand." River finally muttered, her eyes and mind searching his. "There has to be a why."

"You're wasting your time trying to find reason, River." Marcus reasoned coolly."I've told you before. We do, because we can." With a small smile and flick of the wrist, he gestured to the minions at the ready, hoping to build on the high and take back the control he never should have relinquished.

All at once, the ground beneath River's knees began to shake violently, her large brown eyes widening as she felt Simon's hand slip from hers. She ripped herself from Marcus' self-satisfied expression, her breath hitching painfully in her chest as she turned to grab feebly for the contact that was no longer there.

A frenzied excitement surged from the creatures in the courtyard below as the giant slab to which Simon was strapped began to lift steadily upward. The grinding sound was almost as deafening as the blood-thirsty cries that filled the tepid evening.

Falling forward onto her hands, River watched in a stupor as her brother's body was raised upright, a spectacle for all to see. It was then the full reality of her powerlessness sank in, the heavy truth weighing her inexorably to the ground. It was all too much to process; seeing Simon for the first time in four years, and then seeing him in this way, helpless and about to die.

"No! Please. You can't…" River dropped her chin and eyes to the ground, pleading weakly to herself, to the one who wanted her to beg. It was their old game, her despair for his enjoyment.

Closing her eyes, she tried to reason Marcus' cruelty against the intimacy they had briefly shared, the power of which still rang true in her bones. Her body trembled in its memory, flesh feeding on fire. But it was a lie and this was its truth. The air already stank of death.

"River." Simon pleaded, trying to get his sister to refocus her attention. She seemed trapped somewhere, lost. "River, we haven't much time." He explained patiently, his beautiful eyes rapt and alert as he tried his best to be brave for her.

"I know," River whispered perceptively as she faded back into the moment. Picking herself up from her knees, she rearranged the cumbersome material of her white cotton dress and stepped closer. There was so much she wanted to say, but no words held enough meaning.

Looking down from his perch, Simon held his sister's sad eyes for a moment, noticing that they were more grave, more tortured, than he'd ever seen, and he couldn't bear to add to it, to be the cause of any further suffering.

Coming to a decision, he looked past his sister, eyeing Marcus cautiously, this man-thing who had been keeping his sister captive for months, and knew that he'd overhear them at this distance. Raising his chin defiantly, Simon acknowledged the well-dressed creature, hoping to play on his ironic sense of decorum.

"If you're going to do this, if you're going to murder me," he challenged, "will you at least permit us to say goodbye?"

At her brother's request, River dared a look over her shoulder at Marcus, studying the familiar lines of his cruel face to gauge his reaction. Even now he was a fortress, impenetrable and chillingly resolved.

Her own expression gave nothing away, but inside, she was trembling, gutted by trepidation. At long last, she was coming to see the creature behind the mask, fear him properly as she should have all along.

Narrowing his eyes, Marcus appraised the doctor resentfully, sensing his obvious desperation. A nervous sheen of sweat covered the man's pale face and he couldn't help but feel a giddy excitement for what was to come.

Lowering his gaze to River's, he met her piercing eyes, noticing the change in them. Good, he thought with some satisfaction, she was starting to see things as they meant to be.

Directing his attention back to the doctor, he gave his answer. "Very well, but do make it quick." He permitted dryly, gesturing calmly to the crowd around them. "These fine creatures came to see bloodshed, and we wouldn't want to disappoint them."

Smirking, he turned away and walked down several steps to where Culverton stood, but when he reached the man, his insolent smile had faded. It took everything he had not to look back over his shoulder, to remain indifferent.

River shivered as she watched Marcus retreat, the back of his suit signaling the mounting regret she now felt. What would Simon think if he knew she had loved a monster?

Looking steeply up at her brother, her surroundings merged into a chaotic blur, the perverse waves of anticipation blending into the background as she shut them out and focused on only him.

Hanging like Christ sacrificed, his face remained a good three feet above hers, a quiet, intimate goodbye just out of reach. Beyond that, the pitch black night hung ominously overhead, seeming to have swallowed all its stars.

Noting that Marcus was aptly engaged in conversation with a short, ruddy blonde man, Simon seized opportunity and beckoned to his sister with a hint of urgency. "River. Do you see that…"

Before Simon could finish instructing her, River was already dragging a large, empty wooden champagne box to the base of the slab. Climbing atop, she stood almost equal to his height, her long dress and hair catching in the warm wind.

Simon smiled compassionately down at his sister. Despite everything, after searching for so long, his heart soured to see her alive before him; even more beautiful than he remembered.

Tears welled up in River's eyes, her small body trembling unconsciously as she fidgeted her hands along his shoulders, neck, anywhere, just to touch him, commit this moment to memory. Every second with her brother was not enough, because any one of them could be their last.

"I should have never…I'm not what they say." She confessed blindly, her frantic eyes finding his, needing to explain the whole confusing truth. "Showed me off like a dog, but I won't do it." Her voice was unsteady, but her eyes were resolute. "It's all my fault. Should be me up there." She decided bravely. "I can convince him."

"No." Simon refuted instantly. "Don't ever think that. Not ever." He admonished, though his tone was gentle. "We'll get through this, Mei mei, I promise."

Pulling instinctively at his cuffs, Simon longed to wipe away his sister's tears, to hold her and tell her that everything would be alright, but his wrists remained securely fastened and all he could do was gently shush away her fears.

"Come here." He coaxed tenderly, and River leaned in close, laying her head compliantly against his chest where she began to pluck numbly at the buttons on his dress shirt.

"It'll be okay." He repeated soothingly, resting his chin on the top of her hair. She smelled like home and something else, something not her.

"It won't." River argued at his reassurance, shaking her head adamantly. "Things are going to get much, much worse." She relayed, choking back tears. All she could see was red. It saturated the white cotton under her fingertips and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

Wrapping her slender arms around Simon's torso, she closed her eyes to shut it out, pressing her face against his shirt. "You'll die. They'll all die." She whispered fervidly.

Simon tensed at her words, but it was all he needed to confirm everything he had discovered about her. Kissing the top of her head, he forced an encouraging smile. "My sister, always the pessimist." He teased lightly. Yet, he couldn't shake the feeling of dread knotting in his stomach at her forewarning.

Glancing up, Simon noticed that Marcus was eyeing them edgily. Their time was up.

Resolute, he lowered his mouth to River's ear and closed his eyes, breathing in her scent one last time and suppressing the guilt for what he was about to do.

"I'm so sorry, River." He apologized, and before she could respond, he muttered a single phrase, a long string of words foreign to his tongue, and hoped beyond hope that everything he loved about his sister wouldn't be lost.

The crying ceased instantly and River's eyes shot open, awakened to the gray slab of cement before her. Without another thought, she released her brother and spun around, calculating the degrees of threat in the hundreds before her in matter of seconds.

The minions huddled around the torture devices to the right were the first to go as River sprang from the empty crate, kicking it up and sending it full speed in their direction, shards of wood impaling all three at once. A hush fell over the island upon the impact, heads and ominous eyes turning just in time to watch the bodies waver and fall weightily to the ground.

Culverton nudged Marcus as they both looked on in a mixture of bewilderment and surprise. "Ah, there's our girl!" He exclaimed almost reminiscently, a large grin capturing his face. "Second best keep secret in the 'verse…until now, that is."

Marcus growled low, irritated by this unexpected disruption in his plans. He had wanted the girl to feel everything when they had begun to gut her brother alive. One glance at the doctor told him that this was his doing, a final pathetic attempt to best the inevitable.

"Word's going to get around after this." Culverton observed in an amused tone. "Hope you're insured, Marky. The girl is going to make a mess."

While he straightened his tie, Marcus' expression was grim. "Nothing I can't handle." He assured his former assistant as he started intently back up the steps to defuse the situation.

At the slab, River sprung forward on her hands, flipping her body effortlessly three times, and bridged the distance between herself and the carefully laid out weapons. Their sharp points and polished handles gleamed menacingly in their containers as she surveyed the twisted assortment. She couldn't help but feel they had purpose.

Reaching down, she grabbed the fabric of her over-long dress and tore it, creating a jagged hem around the knees to free her limbs from obstruction. The targets were many, and without turning, she could feel them rushing from below. The first infliction of violence had triggered their carnal desire; she was their natural enemy.

The noise became deafening as the group closed in, the quickest of them leading the pack.

Snatching up first a long-sword and a then single chained mace, River the Weapon gripped them fiercely, her senses now operating at full capacity; sight, smell, and sound all worked in harmony with intuition. There was no grey to cloud her mind. No impediment to cause hesitation.

Readying her weapons, she heaved the mace up into the air, and with a quick spin, turned to face the onslaught. The spiked globe whirled around and around, gathering a fatal momentum, but the creatures did not hesitate. Bowling the ball into the first line, she managed to take out 5 at once, bodies flying back and tripping up those behind.

A nasty looking troll lumbered over the bodies, inadvertently finishing off the dying creatures as his gigantic feet crunched their bones like dry leaves. Catching the mace in midair, he ripped the weapon from River's grasp causing her to stumble backwards into the waiting arms of a vampire.

Unfurling its fangs, the thing pulled River up under the arms, grinning as he leaned in for the kill. The apish troll swung at River with his axe, death coming at her from all angles. Ducking the blade, she felt teeth graze her skin and a whoosh as the weapon met with the vampire's neck, freeing her of his embrace.

Rolling under the Troll's legs, River reemerged on the other side, using her sword effectively on two Haklar demons. The Troll stupidly followed the girl's motion, bending over to peer between its large, chunky legs. It only took one kick to knock him off balance and onto his back. It took more than that to finish him off.

Not taking his eyes off River, Marcus moved briskly through the swarming beasts, reaching out and easily breaking the necks of those he passed. A giant troll fell to his end in the distance, and Marcus smiled despite himself. Even though he knew this day would eventually come, he found himself spellbound by the girl's knack for destruction.

Eager to reach her, the current crowd control situation was quickly trying his patience. Next time, he was going to remind Culverton not to go so wild with the invites. A quiet, intimate sacrifice among close friends would be sufficient enough.

Snatching a lizard demon up by the neck as it leapt in midair, Marcus looked at the snarling thing curiously. "Going somewhere?" He questioned rhetorically as he squeezed his fist closed.

Simon's heart leaped into his throat as he witnessed the carnage that unraveled before him. Despite reading all of the files, nothing could have prepared him for the shock of seeing his sister so changed. This girl was a vehicle of death that moved with his sister's grace. Swallowing hard, he felt his heart sink. This was what they had made her, and he had unleashed it upon the universe.

They were coming in fast now, River picking up her pace and handling the sword as if it were merely an extension of her natural form. Another creature leapt upon her, blade meeting bone as she separated its head clean from its body in mid-air.

Momentum was not wasted as she continued to hack and sever vital limbs as if they were made of butter. When one dropped, others rushed in; they came one, two, three at a time to meet the same fate.

The crowed thinned dramatically as Marcus and River fought their way towards one another, every movement precisely timed and un-wasted, a dance beating a crescendo to climax.

Sweeping down, River picked up a broken piece of crate and lodged it deep into a vamp's heart, turning her into a cloud of evaporating dust. River came to a stand-sill, waiting a second for the air to clear, and when it did, he was there on the other side.

Tossing a limp carcass to the ground, Marcus appraised River up and down as she readjusted her grip on her weapon, unleashing her wide, dark eyes upon him. Blood dripped freely from the blade, from her hair, and none of it was her own.

"Congratulations on your newfound sense of self." Marcus praised, his eyes sparkling approvingly as he gestured to the mass of bodies lumped at their feet. "I knew you had it in you." Grinning lecherously, he couldn't help himself as he added, "You look lovely by the way."

River stared blankly in response, tilting her head mechanically. She noted that there were no visible weapons, but the creature had managed to kill twice her number. Scouring her brain, there was no input, no stratagem for this one, whatever he was. For the first time since being triggered, River hesitated.

Marcus looked increasingly amused. "Don't stop on account of me. We were just getting to the fun part, and we both know this isn't your first time." He finished suggestively.

Something deep within River snapped at the comment, memories and feelings that were not locked properly in place, and she acted upon her better judgment. Wielding her sword at Marcus, she slashed downwards across his chest.

Taking a simple step back, Marcus avoided the blade and caught River's wrists, disarming her in a matter of seconds. He snapped the weapon in half so it clamored loudly as it hit the ground. "Is that all you've got?" Marcus challenged, looking down to find that his tie had a tiny gash in it. Well, he'd have to give her two points for effort.

Looking up, Marcus' mischievous smirk retuned. "I've seen you feistier." He taunted.

Blind anger replaced control as River swung her leg around, only for it to be batted it away as it if she were nothing more than a fly. After several more attempts, Marcus countered, punching her squarely in the chest and sending her to the ground like a broken doll.

Hovering above, Marcus smirked down at a crumpled River. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" He asked with feigned politeness. "You'll have to excuse me. Sometimes I don't know my own strength."

Sucking a painful breath, River sat up and twisted her head to look in her opponent's eyes. There was something familiar about them, the way they seemed to change from gray to blue at will.

"River!" Simon called in dismay as he watched Marcus strike his sister to the ground, his heart kick-starting only when she had sat back up again.

Even from a distance, he could see the stoic determination on her face and he couldn't let this continue. "You don't have to fight him." He instructed in a panic, struggling futilely against his bindings. "It's okay to run away."

Marcus chuckled as River's dark eyes remained fixed on his. She hadn't even flinched when her brother had called out to her. "You're wasting your last breath, doctor." He acknowledged blithely, observing the empty rage in the girl's eyes as he cocked his head curiously. "Poor thing doesn't even know who you are. Neither of us, for that matter." He amended.

"Just don't, don't touch her." Simon warned desperately, hating that there was nothing he could do. That he couldn't even try.

"A little too late for that." Marcus shrugged casually. Turning towards Simon, there was a malicious gleam in his eyes. "Did she tell you that we were lovers?" He asked offhandedly.

Simon's face hardened instantly, his eyes turning murderous. "She would never. I don't believe it." He argued strongly, but the words tasted like denial. He had seen enough horribleness in one night to know that anything was possible.

Marcus just hummed knowingly as he stepped over a severed arm, a foot, methodically making his way over to the boy. "I'm sure she would have told you eventually." He comforted mockingly. "If it hadn't been for your impending death."

Behind him, River climbed in the opposite direction, making her journey over heaps of slick bodies to the weapons cache. Sliding her hand over the instruments, she felt what she was looking for. Grasping a pair of sais, a dark ire pushed her to her feet, her mind focused intensely on only one objective.

Simon's lip curled up in disgust as the horrific image of his sister and that thing together, intimate, seared irreversibly in his brain. "She's just a child." He accused vehemently.

"Seventeen today." Marcus acknowledged indifferently, he almost seemed bored as he closed the distance between them. "Grew up while you fumbled uselessly around the universe. No doubt motivated by the false hope that you could somehow be her hero."

"Ta ma de hun dan!" Simon spat under his breath, his face beet-red.

Stopping before the doctor, Marcus' lips found his trademark smirk, feeding off the anger he'd provoked. "And as you were busy failing her so miserably," he went on, "I simply provided her what you could not." Pausing for a moment, he played casually with the end of his crisp sleeve. "Come to think of it." He amended, "You should be thanking me."

"Never." Simon spat, a rage he had never before felt pumping like venom through his veins.

"Very well, then." Marcus resigned unconcernedly. Jerking his arm back, a short blade emerged from under his sleeve, catching the light, and Simon's widened eyes before it was impaled cleanly through his torso.

Everything went white as an impossible pain tore through Simon's gut, and for an instant he thought he was gone, floating somewhere where it no longer hurt. Then the world came spiraling back in all its unwanted intensity. Blood rushed up into his throat where he choked on it, coughing it violently from his lips.

In a haze, in a world that resembled a dream, Simon saw River emerge from behind Marcus. His head and eyes were heavy, lolling shut without his permission, but he heard a scuffle, the same sickening separation of flesh and bone, only this time, he was pretty sure it wasn't his own.

After another minute of rustling, there was a pressing against his stomach, the sound of chains snapping like string before he was pulled from the platform to the ground.

The world swam before Simon's eyes as he tried to focus. Minutes passed as he faded in and out. There was a softness surrounding him, a cool hand on his brow and something falling against his cheeks. The droplets felt both warm and cool, like a summer's rain.

Slowly, everything came into focus as he fought the pull towards the unknown. River was staring down at him, pain and love furrowing her brow as tears painted paths down her dirty, handsome face.

Hope trumped pain as Simon recognized the sadness in his sister's expression. Coughing on more blood, his surprise was stifled. "You know who I am." He choked in relief.

River gave him a ridiculous look, her eyebrows raised slightly as she cradled her brother's head in her lap. "You're Simon." She stated plainly, then her expression changed, this time it was hopeful.

"Don't talk." She commanded, soothing her free hand across his forehead. "I can feel them coming."

Lifting his left arm, he felt for the tiny hand pressed urgently against his wound, and squeezed it weakly. "I-I'm so sorry, River. He was right. I couldn't save you."

River shook her head fervently. "No, you did! You saved me, Simon." She vowed, smiling through tears. "I see things clearly now."

Simon smiled peacefully as he rolled his head back and looked straight up into the night sky. "It's bright. Brighter than you'd think it'd be." He confessed dreamily.

"No! Don't look there." Panic seized River as she shook her brother gently. "Come back. It won't be long now. Then we can be together." She promised, pulling him closer, refusing to let them have him.

Words emptied mindlessly from her lips, she had to keep talking, keep him here. Just a little while longer. "You can tell me stories and I'll listen. Promise not to interrupt. I don't do that anymore." She vowed, rocking them slightly.

"We can go anywhere. Home if you'd like. And I'll be good, Simon, I swear. Just please…please don't leave me here alone." She was sobbing uncontrollably now, an unconscious desperation taking hold.

Leaning down, River pressed her cheek against Simon's, his skin cool where everything inside her burned. She remained there, listening to his breath grow more shallow and the night grow steadily silent.

Laying a few feet away on the hard ground, Marcus had heard every word. He had regained consciousness almost immediately after the girl had stabbed him, but instead of yanking the sai from his neck and getting to his feet, he simply lie there listening to River offer her brother a future, one with love and hope and everything else humankind desperately clamored for in their darkest hour.

As he listened to River quietly weep, as the number of living eventually faded to from three to two, he wondered why he still hadn't moved.

But most of all, he wondered why he, Marcus Hamilton, the one who had carefully orchestrated everything to cumulate in this very moment, couldn't find one ounce of satisfaction in its sounds.

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TBC…


	16. Chapter 16

Title: Revelations

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A/N: I lost this chapter when my computer crashed, so I had to start anew. Hopefully it was for the best… Only a few more chapters left people! Please let me know if the plot is too muddled. I'm trying to connect the dots without spelling everything out too transparently. *I backtracked to the last chapter and smoothed over the Marcus bits to make his POV more mysterious and also to make the chapters flow better. Mainly in the beginning.

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River faded from one darkness to the next, her eyes vaguely making out forms and shapes cast blurry by a light flickering somewhere beyond. Shadows danced as if a dream along the jagged walls and she watched them vacantly, unmoving. Her face lay against her bound wrists, body curled to the wet ground. She couldn't feel a single thing.

It was in this numb state, bound and captive once more, that she found her clarity. Her mission. The locks binding her wrists felt simple, breakable, but she remained in them out of contempt. Lying there, ice cold water dripping from cavern crevices onto her cheek, her neck, and slipping into her already wet clothing, it looked like defeat. It wasn't. She wanted to suffer, feel the biting cold, the deep burning sensation as the dampness pooled in her wounds. But more than anything, it was him she wanted to suffer, to feel every tragic inch of hurt he had caused by taking Simon from her.

In the shadows she could sense him lurk, his cutting blue eyes evaluating her from just beyond the light. It was a game of waiting. He would lose. His curiosity itched at her skin.

Fantasies of death, the way they taught her to do it, carried her through the hours. She had killed so many. Unlocked like a key and it was all brought back. She would have come to resent her if she hadn't been needed for him.

Finally, Marcus stepped forward out of concealment, the sound of his heels sharp and precise. She resented the sound. Towering above her, he stood for a moment and then kneeled. His knees didn't crackle or pop like a human's would. Rather, he moved in one fluid motion.

Something touched her head and she flinched, moving for the first time and backing as far into the wall as she could, avoiding the hand holding the cloth. She would not let him touch her. Not this time.

"Very well." Marcus consented, settling back on his heels to get a better look. She looked more feral than she had when he had first taken her in. Ok, more like adopted her against her will, but there was something else. He could smell the danger on her. Practically taste it. It wasn't surprising.

Marcus continued on, speaking to River as if nothing had happened. As if nothing had changed. As if they had been placed right back at the beginning of it all.

"I know the conditions are dire." Marcus sympathized, breaking the silence. He looked up and around, surveying the vast chambers of the dead hell mouth before returning his attention to the cuffs on River. She practically grimaced as he slid his large hand around her dainty wrists, warm for someone so cold. Clicking the restraints tighter, he explained himself uncomplicatedly, "Just a precaution."

But his hands lingered on her skin, eyes searching the length of her arm for a moment before letting go and returning to business. "We can't have you hurting yourself." He argued briskly.

River laughed darkly at that, but did not meet his eyes. Her giggle bounced eerily off the walls and receded deep within the cavern.

Drawing back, Marcus stood, leaving his clothing off kilter as he stared down at River, wanting to say more than he had allowed himself thus far. Instead, he explained further, "We'll move when the time is right. It's best they don't know where we are."

River twisted her head up, her lips finding words. "I'm here." She promised softly, her voice leaded with menace. "Caged with the beast." She observed, tracing her fingers along the slimy rock. She practically hummed. "Tick tock."

Marcus smiled slowly as he backed away, leaving the girl alone with her promises.

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Marcus lay on a bed in a makeshift chamber, an old room covered in a century's worth of dust. He seemed to hardly take note of his surroundings; the fire sparked and crackled for its own amusement. Hand over hand, his normally uncomplicated mind was restless as he stared off into nothing.

She, River, was exactly how he wanted her. Hate and rage blinding her of everything that had come before. It had been so simple, and now that it was over, the silence pressed in. Millenniums taunted him with the nothing he possessed.

He remembered her skin, cold and damp under his grip. He had done that to her, transformed what was beneath. There was now an irreversible hunger crawling through her veins, virgin and untamed and wanting to be unleashed upon the universe. She needed his guidance, but there was no time. No matter how intuitive, there were some things she would never know.

Feeling the faintest shift, a scrape, a movement, Marcus came out of his revere and smiled. "It's about time." He announced.

River emerged from the chamber's opening, vengeance gleaming wet in her eyes. Massive heaps of sodden hair concealed her face. Her pale lips pressed into something that resembled a smile.

"You'll be warmer by the fire," Marcus instructed, unconcerned and laying just as still as before.

She did not move.

Marcus watched her watching him, observing the split second that she scanned the room, waiting the seconds it took for her to reach him with the poker from next to the fire. It was impressive. Weighted down by nothing, she straddled him, pressing the dull and rusted tip hard to his throat.

Tilting back, Marcus offered the expanse of his neck to her, as she had done once before. "The hasty don't hesitate," He berated and the grabbed the rod at her hands, guiding it deeper. "But you'll have to push all the way through this time."

River cocked her head, meeting his eyes with equal defiance. Every inch of her wanted this, for it to be over. But in looking into his eyes, the skin beneath her weapon seemed suddenly vulnerable, resistant to her push. There was no veil of gray in them, no unforgiving in the blue. They were just eyes and she recognized their capacity. There was a time when she had lived there.

The weapon fell, and any sound thereafter was unheard as River began to tremble. Her body shook uncontrollably with realization. Marcus sat up immediately, folding the girl in his arms, but she refused, beating her fists wildly against his chest. He let her. There was no humility in the moment, only understanding.

There was a choked sob, tears familiar as they bled into his shirt and met skin. "Why? Why, why, why? She chanted, the manic girl returning. Looking up, River's dark eyes found their amber as they pleaded with his. "I could have forgiven you if you had been him." She whispered.

He kissed her then. He hadn't planned to, but the willpower he had so mastered up until that very moment crumbled. He needed to feel his mouth on hers, taste her breath as she struggled for release, confused and then defeated as she answered back with subsided rage.

Pushing up against Marcus, River wrapped her arms around his neck as he drew her slight frame firmly to his. The kisses were smothering, propelled by fervor and begging for air. There was the fear that if they stopped, they'd never start again.

Hands fumbled like first time lovers' to undo clothing both tattered and clean. River moved her hair to one side as Marcus slid his hands along her back, searching for the tiny zipper embedded in her dress. Kissing her lips, her chin, her neck, the metal sang open, and he kissed her lower still, welcoming her contented hum.

River dug her hands into Marcus' hair as clothing fell, as skin met skin and they connected fully and deeply. They danced like this, in sync and forgetting why it shouldn't be. Placing his large hand along the side of her face, Marcus watched the pain fade away from River's expression, her eyes closed and skin flushed. She never looked so beautiful.

His thumb moved along her jaw, looking, admiring, as his other hand moved up along the line of her throat. She consumed him, burning like a fever. "This is what they wanted," he managed to confess and she opened her eyes.

"I can't love you." She answered knowingly, tears bleeding over at the full meaning. Marcus kissed them as they fell. "It's how they win." She whispered against his face. Already she could feel the shift, the natural balance of good and evil turned awry.

Marcus nodded, wrapping his hand around hers, and bringing them close. "I didn't understand it then, that it had nothing to do with your abilities, what they made you. It was always something more basic."

River tried to smile under the weight of it all. "You tried to undo what I did." Everything made sense now, and that scared her more than her alternate reality. "It almost worked." She professed. They had stilled but everything still moved.

"It wouldn't be the first time I failed." Marcus confessed, half glad of it. It had been harder that he'd thought to fool her, to step into his old role and watch her suffer. "You'll have to leave soon." He prompted, signaling the urgency of the situation.

It was River's turn nod. "The storm's getting worse." She answered with the same sweet perceptiveness he used to find utterly annoying. Back before he knew he'd defy prophecy for her.

Pushing back, Marcus settled flat as River followed, entangling herself in the moment and forgetting everything before and after. She wanted to feel his body heavy upon hers, trapping her willingly. The feeling came in waves, burning hot and bright, and then when it was all over, despair.

Turning away, River fought the familiar ache. It beat like dread low in her abdomen. Marcus circled his arm around her waist, pressing his hand flat against the hurt, as if he knew it was there. Kissing her shoulder, he spied her profile, and wondered if she could ever be anything but sad when she was with him.

"It would have been easier the other way." He rebuked softly, knowing full well it was too late to go back. But then again, it had been too late for a very long time.

River answered as if it had been a lifetime ago. "Simon?" She hoped.

Marcus stilled, frozen by her question, and then relented. "Alive. I made you see what I wanted you to see. What I needed you too."

Wrinkling her face in remembrance, harsh and unforgettable, River struggled to understand. "How? There was so much blood. Tried to make it stay but I couldn't. I…"

"Shhh." Marcus whispered, soothing her from the panic she could never escape. From the memory of pain that she felt more intensely than any other. "It was all real. He was there and then not, but his death was a mirage."

River's body relaxed for the first time as she began to understand. She had seen things that defied logic, and yet they were. As she settled against Marcus, it wasn't long before another worry crawled its way inside. Putting her hand over his, she faced him, her eyes wide with concern. "They're going to kill you for this. You're going to die and be replaced."

Marcus smiled, amused. "You were going to kill me not too long ago."

"I wasn't." River refuted honestly, searching his face. "But you knew that."

"Mostly." Marcus returned, a trace of his old arrogance shining through. Covering them with the ratty old blanket, he nestled River close and the fire eventually dimmed, the crackling growing more faint as sleep touched her face. He stayed awake, watching her sleep. He wanted to take in the last hours they would ever have together. Soon she would go back to her brother and fight to reverse the damage done, and he would help.

Far above the cavern, the 'verse grew dark, upset by the imbalance her love had caused. Apocalypse and chaos, his lifeblood once raging, now stilled. He no longer wanted this fate if it meant she was going to die in its crux. Marcus had known River Tam for a mere blink in eternity, and loved her as well as some like him could for even less.

---

TBC


End file.
